


The Dauntless Excursion

by Rickashay



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Job, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29284254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rickashay/pseuds/Rickashay
Summary: Post-CotBP Governor Swann physically holds Elizabeth back from joining Jack and Will. Yet, she still wants her freedom. Instead, the next morning as the Dauntless leaves she stows away to the Commodore’s cabin, planning an adventure of her own. Her betrothed is less than pleased.
Relationships: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann, Slight Elizabeth/Will, Slight Gillette/James Norrington
Comments: 27
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will have their own warnings, note that there is masturbation in this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: masturbation

Chapter 1

James Norrington had a regal baring to him, a straight Roman nose, dashing green eyes, and a uniform to boot. 

But she wasn’t in love with him.

“You forget your place, Turner.” James said loathingly.

“It’s right here, between you and Jack.”

As was hers.

She felt a tight grip on her shoulder and Elizabeth looked up into the eyes of her father, her mouth suddenly filled with sand and hesitation. He looked pleadingly, devastated, and unflinching in his disapproval. He always had wanted James as a son-in-law, treated him as his own since the early days aboard the Dauntless on their excursion from England. Even at her debut there were hints here and there, reminders that Captain Norrington would be attending and of course she would give him her time and attention. His surprise and happiness at her acceptance was another reminder of her place.

In the end, she stood next to him with his hand curled around her upper arm and felt the tremble of nerves from her father. 

She knew…

She knew she couldn’t do it…not even for Will. Not even for her freedom.

In the end, it was not just Jack that sailed over the battlement but Will as well, disappearing in the Caribbean water and towards their destiny. Towards freedom. While she remained clinging to her fiancée’s arm and the clutch of her father steadily lessening as they escaped.

“Well, I think we can afford to give them one day’s head start.” James squeezed her arm tightly, glancing with that shy smile of his.

She smiled back, just as she did on the ship with tongue in cheek and a hint of surprise curling her lips.

Of course, this would mean her fiancée would be leaving her as well and she would be stuck, keeping house and waiting for white (black) sails. Her engagement a thing that settled in the back of their minds where the Scourge of Piracy was concerned, or as she thought.

“Of course, you can come to supper tonight, Commodore.” Governor Swann reached out and shook his hand as the Swann crested carriage rolled forward. 

“Yes, yes, first I have things to attend to at the fort.” Green eyes glanced into hers, searching and considering. The hand that helped her into the carriage was strong and assured, callused from sword fighting but soft and firm. There was a lingering to his touch, as if he could not bear to part with her. She stared out the window as he turned around towards the fort. She watched his back as he left and he flexed his hand feelingly, almost as if her touch burned him.

And she wondered…

Did he feel the tension too?

Did he notice that she hesitated?

////

As soon as they arrived home, she escaped into her rooms. The door to her bedroom flung open and slammed shut despite Estrella hurrying inside anyway to help her out of her dress.

“Of dearie, I am sure it was a very trying day.” She said, unlacing her expertly.

“It was quite eventful. Jack and Will escaped.” Elizabeth said, taking a deep breath in as her dress released her ribcage. There was a pause behind her, Estrella’s steadied breathing the only indication she had heard.

“And what is Commodore Norrington going to do about that, Miss?” Estrella kept her eyes down since she, like most of the people surrounding her, were quite taken with her fiancée’s fine eyes and debonair demeanor.

“He said he would wait a day.” There was a touch of longing in her voice, a mournful sound. How she wished she could sail.

“That is very generous of him, to do that for you.” The dress was flung above her head, taken away as a bath was drawn for her. The sweltering heat caused the dress to cling stickily to her skin, the corset causing red raised marks on her side. A bath was lovely considering the stifling heat.

Elizabeth gasped softly as she lowered her body into the tub, feeling Estella’s delicate but steady hands undoing the various pins that held together her hair. It fell to her shoulders. “I hardly think that it was done for my sake alone.” She ducked her head into the water.

“Oh miss, I am sure that the Commodore is not unaware of your feelings towards Mr. Turner. It had to have been to spare you the sight of seeing them both swing.” Estella sighed softly, parting the curtains to give her some sunlight to bath in. Just as she liked it.

“Perhaps, as he is all good and noble in my eyes. A lovely man to marry.” It was spoken bitterly, her knees coming to her chest as she wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging close.

“He is an honorable man, my love. One that would make any woman happy to marry. You will want for nothing.”

Of course, there was the reverse that if she married Will she would be subjugated to living in circumstances that were far below her station as of now. A blacksmith apprentice’s wife was hardly one to go to balls or attend hangings. Yet, Elizabeth imagined the feel of the sea against her cheek and the wind blowing in her hair as she hoisted herself towards the deck of the Black Pearl.

Freedom…

It whispered, tantalizing.

That was what Will represented.

What she longed for.

But instead, she was shackled to a life of decadence and prosperity, living on the arm of a Commodore and the curtails of a Governor. She was doomed for a life without the sea, a life of motherhood and keeping house, of playing the pianoforte and stitching handkerchiefs for her beloved. It was not the life she wanted but the life that was chained to her feet, tugging her to the bottom and depth of the seas to damnation.

She sighed, even as she curled up on her bed in her shift as Estella buzzed around, looking for the perfect dress to wear for a dinner with her fiancée. Elizabeth fluttered her eyes closed yet could not help but picture dark eyes and dark hair standing next to her than the stern façade or eyes the color of the sea or horsehair wig. Yet, she wondered how dark the hair underneath that wig was, contemplating it with her usual curiosity. She remembered it briefly from her first voyage when her father and her fled her mother’s death, a promise of a better future fastening them to the Caribbean-sea. 

Before she knew it, she fell into a brief slumber yet remembered the softness of a hand lifting her to the sky.

She dreamed of freedom.

The skin of her hand tingled with feeling.

////

She awoke to the sound of Estella closing the door, exclaiming, “You should have been up hours ago as the Commodore is here waiting for you.” Elizabeth glanced outside, noting the setting sun and the dryness of her mouth from sleep.

“It will only take a moment to dress.” She said quickly, her feet already hitting the floor hurriedly. It only took a few moments to dress and as she stepped down, she heard her two men whispering to each other. 

Curious…

Her lips curled slightly, noting the color rising to James’s cheeks and the smile on her father’s face. Supper was quiet, containing politics and business than anything that could possibly interest her. They discussed the journey for tomorrow, which she listened to only to think about her two other men that were sailing hopefully far, far away from reach.

James sat across from her, his eyes shifting from her father’s face to gaze at her with an indistinguishable look in his eyes. It made everything taste stale and bitter, his green eyes filled with an indescribable emotion. Even when dessert came, she ate her crème brulee in silence even though it was her favorite dessert and probably prepared in celebration.

“Well, the Commodore and I will of course retire into the library for some brandy.”

“Actually, I hoped that you would give Elizabeth and I a moment of privacy. Perhaps if we could take a turn about in the gardens. I can join you later.” James glanced over to her and Elizabeth could feel herself flush with the attention as well as the couple glasses of wine she had.

“Of course, I have no doubt you would wish to say goodbye before your voyage.” The Governor smiled charmingly, as he always did, but there was a certain quality in his eyes that was more pleased than usual.

“I will say goodbye at the docks, of course.” Her chin lifted up, glancing at the stern face of her betrothed and the amusement of her father.

He chortled. “You know, dear, I find that very unlikely as I can barely get you out of bed until way after the sun rises. As they leave at dawn, I have no doubt that you’d still be happily dreaming away.”

Elizabeth blushed slightly, knowing it was true. “Nevertheless, it is part of my duties now, is it not?”

“I suppose so,” her father replied, more and more amused. She was the least dutiful person he knew. Although that morning proved otherwise, as there was little but his displeasure that stopped her from Will’s side.

James’s arm linked around hers as they strolled through the lane of the garden. The silence between them growing heavier and heavier as they moved deeply into the pathway. He glanced at her from the side of his eye every once and awhile, noting the strands of hairs that escaped their pins that fell into curls prettily across her face. She huffed at the scrutinizing eye, remembering that they were betrothed…and he had every right to stare at her unabashedly.

“You know I will always do what is best for us, don’t you?” He began after sighing heavily.

“Of course, Commodore.” She demurred. Yet, it caused him to furrow his brows as he always did deep in thought.

“I wish to be perfectly clear, Elizabeth.” Straight to the point, per usual. “I know your father stopped you from stepping in today. He is aware that I am aware, but I want you to know that if you do not wish to marry me, I will easily relinquish any hold I may have over you. It may be gratitude for saving Mr. Turner or some other misconceived notion you may have, I do not want a marriage of gratitude and convenience.”

Her nerves stirred, biting her lip as she shook her head. “I do not wish to not marry you, James.” She remembered his own usage of her name and gave him the same curtesy. “I just wish to have my freedom and to do what I wish to do. I do not want to wither away attending social events and tea parties, political conversations or waiting by the docks for my husband to return.” She huffed, feeling him pull her closer and curl an arm around her shoulders in an almost hug.

“I am not the key holder to your chain. I wish for you to be happy, Elizabeth.” He stopped, turning towards her and lifting her chin to gaze into her eyes. “I think that your best bet in life for happiness is with me and not someone who would cage you -”

“You will cage me, James.”

He frowned at the interruption. “I will not. I do not expect you to simply keep house for me and wait for my return, I want you to have choices and to feel like you have more freedom than just being a governor’s child. You will have everything you’ll need to be happy. I assure you of that.”

Her eyebrows curved in doubt. She stepped closer, noting the faint inhale of his breath and the dilation of his pupils of her closeness. “I have no doubt I’ll be able to find happiness with you, James.” She took his hand in hers. “But I want…to sail and to be free. I want to feel more alive than I do in corsets or in a dress. I want to dress like a man and drink like a man. I want a lot of things, James. I just don’t know if I can find them here.” She lowered her gaze, noting the piercing look in his very, very green ones.

“I can take you with me on the safer journeys, Elizabeth. There are plenty of admirals, commodores, and captains that carry passengers that you’ll be able to accompany me sailing. We can see the world or as much of it as I can give you. I can teach you to sail and I can give you all those things within reason.” He pressed her hands to his chest, leaning closer and closer to her. “I will give you everything you desire if it means you’ll stay with me. But…” he paused, “I do not want your hesitation. I want your heart, given fully and willingly.”

She blushed at the thought and it was tempting.

If there was anything about James that she understood, it was that he was a man of his word. In return, she would do the same.

She caressed his cheek. His eyelids fluttered close in pleasure and her toes curled at the sensation. “I gave you my word, James. Do not doubt that I have thought every conceivable reason to say yes to you. Especially marooned on that island waiting for rescue, do not doubt that I thought of you every waking moment and knew that you’d rescue me – “

“I do not want your gratitude.” He huffed.

“I know,” she smiled, leaning closer until they were nearly head to chest. His breath sending the tendrils of her hair into the wind. “I have thought of many reasons to say no and to say yes, but you are a fine man, James.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his cheek. “I have every reason to say yes to such a fine man.”

For whatever reason, it was like the floodgates had opened and he pulled her closer by the waist, spanning it with both of his hands easily. He leaned forward and captured her lips with his, tentative but daring. She sighed softly, placing her arms around his shoulders to close the distance between them. Rough hands fell to her lower back and he deepened the kiss. A hint of tongue prodded at the seam of her lips and she opened up curiously. If there was anything that he knew about Elizabeth, it was that she was a curious woman. He breathed in sharply as she opened her mouth for him to explore, feeling his tongue brush against her own. Suddenly it was all teeth and tongue, an explosion of sensation that she had never felt curled in her stomach and hated the very thought that he would leave in the morning. She would miss this exploration. One of his hands snuck to the back of her neck, tilting her head back further for him to navigate her mouth. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting her and the crème brulee. He felt her inexperience and hesitation because just as suddenly as it began, she withdrew, discreetly wiping away the salvia that clung to the corners of her mouth. 

She had never seen a look in a man’s eye like the one she saw in his. Will loved her, she knew that, but this was a mixture of…something else.

Something far, far different and dangerous.

Not dangerous…not quite.

She didn’t know, but she would think about it.

They kept to the gardens for a couple minutes longer, the Commodore – James filling the empty space with light conversation of the voyage tomorrow.

“Do you really plan on seeing me off?” he asked. Pleased.

“Yes, I do.” Because of course she did, especially with the current look he was giving her.

His smile was breathtaking.

And she had given him her word, as sudden as it was.

It was soon that they headed back inside, James to the library and Elizabeth retiring to her room. She sat on her bed, long after Estella came and undressed her and long after the sound of a horse riding away. 

Her hands drifted to her breasts, pinching them lightly and squeezing her thighs together. She caressed them, brushing their tips with sure fingers. She allowed them to pebble with arousal, teasing them until the sensation coiled in her stomach. Her hands drifted down to her flat stomach, brushing the sensitive sides of her stomach until she reached her mound of curls. Her fingers traced teasingly between her folds, picturing dark hair and dark eyes. The smell of soot and leather. She pushed her two fingers into her cavern, the sound and movement equally inducing the sensitive feelings in her belly. She brushed her clit, a startled gasp escaping her at the tightening of her muscles. She twirled her fingers until she was slick with want, gasping and moaning as softly as she could. She moved onto her stomach, knees bent and hand still rubbing her nub teasingly. Wet fingers plundered deeper and deeper into her tunnel, smothering the sounds of her pleasure into her pillow. She felt her mouth curling into a smile, a heated blush rising to her cheeks at the thought of the kiss they shared, and suddenly dark eyes gave into green and she felt liquid pool as she gasped. 

The kiss…

She concentrated on the feeling of his tongue against hers, the bit of nipping of her lower plump lip. Elizabeth wondered how it would feel to have sure, thicker fingers replace hers. Curling deep inside of her, a steady weight against her back as he pushed her deeply into the mattress. The feeling of a warm tongue lapping at her entrance, nibbling on her clit, and caressing her soft, trembling folds. She imagined the feeling as her fingers plunged deeper and deeper into her entrance, moaning softly at the thought of someone brushing against the sensitive nipples, circling her clit, and her thighs tightening around the hand that captivated her. 

The man smiled with a breathtaking smooth face, bashful and pleased.

She gasped and wave after wave of pleasure overcame her. Elizabeth sighed, wiping her hands delicately against her covers, moving to lay on her back and pulling away the blankets to allow her sweaty body to breath. She sighed and wondered.

Who did she really imagine?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this one

Word Count: 3091  
Chapter 2

Elizabeth awoke to the feeling of a hand on her shoulder and immediately she felt a grapple of skeleton hands clutching, tearing at her skin, dress, laughing and smirking, grinning with their teeth glinting in the dark. She gasped, feeling as if she had just had a bucket of cold water wash over her, shivering in the darkness of the room. Dawn had yet to break.

“Shhh, it’s just me, ma’am. You asked me to wake you before the Commodore leaves and they are to set sail in a little over an hour.” Estella had that concerned, friendly look that she always embodied. “I wanted to give you enough time to eat and dress, perhaps take a cup of coffee before you see him off.”

The nightmares were a great concern and secrecy between the two of them. Elizabeth did not want her father to worry. Instead she wanted to maintain the façade that she was perfectly safe from her misadventure with the pirates, yet she could still feel their bony hands grasp her, a knife that protruded from a chest, and an evergreen apple. They still haunted her as the curse haunted them.

She hated most of all the feeling of vulnerability. She was brave. Not some damsel in distress.

“Of course,” she said as she swung her legs to the floor. “I can get ready momentarily.”

They picked something a little understated than what she normally wore around the Commodore, a simple dress with no corset but strays in the back. It was a usual soft yellow, the same color as the sun peeking through her white curtains. She sipped her coffee and ate her muffin in silence, knowing her father barely stirred. As she sat she wondered what type of gift she could bestow on her betrothed before he left, knowing vaguely that although it was sudden, she rather like gifts and would hopefully be given something in return from his voyage home. She wanted something riveting, something that he did not own himself, and something more than a trifle as a handkerchief would signify. 

Although it was silly, a traditional gift was more James’s style than hers. She would consider a book on adventures or perhaps jewelry as she quite liked pretty things. But James…

James was different…

It came to her as she sat in her parlor sipping her black coffee that a locket of hair, signifying his long departure and a sign of her love and devotion that it may suit her needs. Although she did not love him, no, not at all. She cared greatly, but he was the best of men and deserved something from her.

“Estella, I want you to cut a lock of my hair for the Commodore.” Estella looked taken aback at the request but was perfectly willing to shear a curl from the back of her head that would not be missed. It was perfect. A sign of her devotion to him and something that she knew he would appreciate it as it was intended.

“How thoughtful of you, Miss Elizabeth.” Estella smiled.

She was a woman of her word and she intended to keep her engagement. It was silly to imagine herself engaging in such romanticism, but she had rather thought that James was rather romantic himself and would understand the gesture.

The hair was folded delicately into one of her finest handkerchiefs, folded neatly into a square that she could sneakily give to him before he left.

She smirked at the thought.

It was then that Estella called for the carriage and they were on their way to the bay to send off her intended to another adventure. She could not help the curl of envy that dug its way into her heart or the jealousy of seeing the sun set against the ocean sea or the rocking of a boat. She longed for the same freedom.

If only she was born a man,

It was easy to see the Dauntless even among the hustle and bustle of the port, James’s height and air a clear indication of where he stood. She took a moment to admire the straight back, the broad shoulders, and the commanding presence of her betrothed. He was a military man, through and through. There was little expression he gave as he ordered his men about preparing for the journey.

But when he saw her standing there…he smiled.

It was slight, bashful, and shy. A slight curling at the edges of his mouth but his pleasure in seeing her wave him off was astounding. It made her feel uncomfortable. The amount of affection he seemed to have for her, when she could not return the same affection. She stood among the other women that had started to gather to wish their partners farewell, and she looked around and thought to herself…

This was a part of her life now.

He quickly came to her side, grasping her hand to place a kiss delicately on her knuckles. Her smile was a little less genuine than the one he bestowed upon her. 

“Are you fully prepared, Commodore?” She said, straightening his lapels of his uniform coat. She placed her hand above his heart, even as he clutched her hands to his chest.

“Almost, just waiting for the women to gather to send us off.” He glanced behind her to the women, noting Estella standing further away but a careful watch on Elizabeth.

“I have something for you.”

“Do you really?” He blushed straight to the tips of his ears, a dull red that was rather unbecoming to her. The surprise was a little biting, even though it was a voyage that was not scheduled, it was traditional to give a gift to send him off.

“Yes, I thought you would rather like it, but you must promise me that you will not look at it until you have departed. And of course, return the favor.” She said, a mischievous smile curling her lips and pinking her cheeks. She opened his coat and placed the handkerchief inside the hidden pocket she knew was there. Ignoring as he moved slightly away from her grasping hands, a shocked expression on his face.

“Elizabeth, you are hardly being appropriate.” She carefully slipped the folded up handkerchief into its spot, patting it for good luck.

“I assure you, sir.” She grinned this time, enjoying the flush that suddenly spread to his neck. “You should not have proposed if you were not fully aware that I would seize any opportunity to embarrass you as often as possible. 

“Perhaps you would like a tour around the ship before we set sail.” He extended his arm towards her, which she grasped lightly. She looked around, easily seeing that she was rather early in comparison to the other women who were still gathering by the docks and saying goodbye to their other loved ones.

They walked steadily across the Dauntless, listening as he began explaining the plan they had in capturing the Black Pearl. She had been on the Dauntless plenty of times to know every nook and cranny that is boasted of, but this was the first time she was introduced to the men as one of their own, so to speak.

Men in red uniforms nodded at her, calling out good morning as they hurried to say their final goodbyes. Gillette was the only one remaining, taking her fiancée’s side and saying, “There is one final thing I wanted to ask you before we set sail.”

James turned to her and smiled, taking her hand in his. Another kiss to her knuckles and he said, “Excuse me, Elizabeth, you must allow me to attend to my duties.” She nodded, glancing irritably away as Gillette smirked at her. She hated that man. Arrogant fool.

She turned to leave and just…suddenly…

Had a thought…

What if she hid in the captain’s quarters?

It was unlikely that she would be discovered until later in the day when James had need of them. It was just as likely that it would be far too late to do anything like turn the ship around if they wanted to gain the distance that the Black Pearl had already put between them.

She itched for adventure. It was like ants crawling underneath her skin, begging to come out. She wanted to feel the rocking of the boat underneath her feet, the sound of the sails fluttering in the air, and the soft murmurs of the crew as they worked. It was easy to imagine the anger her father would feel that she stowed away and even more so the disappointment that James would justifiably feel, but…

It was tempting…

James rarely kept grudges against her, she knew from childhood experience when she scurried away from his company to seek out Will or one of her girlfriends. A relief back then…and now an impossibility.

Instead of making a decision she stole away to the captain’s quarters in curiosity, watching as James turned his back to her and faced Lieutenant Gillette, who stared at her retreating back. When she closed the doors behind her in the Captain’s quarters, she took stock of it in a new way than she had when she was stuck inside after Isla de Muerta. This could tell her much about James. It was rather well cleaned, organized as she expected everything of James to be, and had very few personal items. She glanced at the globe that set on his desk, the letters of business how odious she should think them, and the ink and penknife that was carefully laid out.

It was all…rather James.

There was a small pile of books in the corner, which she took stock of in a rather delighted fashion. It was then she realized, she knew very little about her fiancée despite knowing him for most of her life. He was always kind and attentive, but rarely willing to give up personal information or opinions unless it was about politics or some other piece of business discussed between her father and him. She rarely spoke to him about poetry, taste in books, music, or anything that may have been mutually interesting. She had heard tales of his adventures before when she was a girl, before it was deemed too unseemly or before he became more reserved after her debut…which she now realized was interest than lack of attention. He was always willing to give a story before or even advice or amusement. He frequently allowed her to escape the clutches of her governess to bother him at the fort and allowing her boundless energy to keep him company.

One of the books particular drew her attention: Fables, Ancient and Modern by John Dryden was one of extreme interest to her, as it had translations of Iliad and Metamorphoses, as well as the Canterbury Tales and there was more tales than those mentioned above but these were of key interest to her. She had never expected him to be interested in poetry or verse. Although the volume had to be more than twenty years old, it was still of interest to her that it was one of the few books he would keep on his person at all times.

She sighed softly…

Thinking to herself…

Of adventures and plans…

Yet something stirred in her, the rebellious and ultimately the petty, spoiled child she knew lived inside of her. The same one that would have stood next to Will and the same one that begged for his life as a wedding gift.

She was fully aware of being spoiled, doted on by her father as one of the only remaining parts of her mother. She looked like her, sounded like her mother, but her mother was a docile creature that died in childbirth and lived through portraits and paintings in her eyes. She remembered very little other than a bedridden, frail woman with sharp, intelligent walnut eyes. There was little of the feisty, spiritedness that Elizabeth embodied.

She wanted to stow away.

She wanted freedom and wanted to see Will again.

And as soon as the thought entered her brain, she knew she had reached a verdict. She knew every corner of the ship, knew the places that they would look and the places that they would not. Elizabeth smiled, regretfully remembering the fretting of her father, the anger of her fiancée, but she…she wanted something more to life than that of a governor’s daughter or a wife to a commodore or admiral.

She deserved adventure.

This may be her last chance at adventure before she was locked away, hidden in some house, bearing children, and waiting for white sails.

As she heard orders given and the sound of men retrieving the anchor, she hid underneath the bed in the Captain’s quarters, knowing that it was far from likely that they would look underneath the bed. She thought momentarily of Estella’s confusion and her fear but knew without a shadow of a doubt that Estella would understand of all people. Estella knew her better than anyone, other than…perhaps Will. She knew her heart. 

Underneath the bed was dusty and she knew without a doubt that she had dirtied her dress. She could care less, but she listened with a keen ear for any sign that someone would enter the cabin and instead felt perfectly safe that she would not be discovered until it was too late.

Far too late…

It needed to be at least a day…

And like everything she did she did not consider the consequences of her actions. She knew that her father would be upset and rightfully so, but she did not consider the chamber pot or the need for food between the time she was discovered and the time she had to hide away.

She felt the boat move underneath her and she knew they had set sail. She stayed silent and still for a good hour before she moved from her place and perused her surroundings. She went through the drawers of his desk. She noted the small portrait of his father for it was a male in admiral clothing with a stern face and rather the same façade that she had seen painted on James’s face before. There was another portrait of a family. The wife was clearly docile, the painter giving little life into her dull, green eyes. It seemed that he embodied his father the most with the exception of the color of his eyes, but the expression…it was all wrong. Of course, it was not like painters painted for the sake of expression in a family portrait. There were two other sons, both with the noble bearing of the father, and a girl in a dress that matched the mother. She was blond, with strawberry curls, and a sweet disposition that was captivating. Then there was the baby. A fussy child held in the mother’s arms and obviously too young to be much interested in sitting still for a portrait.

She knew very little about James and wondered which child he was.

The boys all looked alike and the baby, well…it was hard enough to tell which sex it was.

She went through all of his things, trying to ignore the grumbling of her stomach. She searched through every nook and canny, spotting a gift of a ship in a bottle that her father had given him, as well as the odd book here and there that had made its home in his cabin. There was little personality, but she felt she knew her fiancée a little bit more.

He was a neat, orderly man. Unsurprisingly. But he was also very endeared to his family, as that was the only picture that she could find. He also loved her father, which she knew without the evidence of the retainment of his gifts, but rather he was undoubtedly devoted to her as she spied several letters she had written to him when he was just a Captain and on his way towards Spain to find and capture more pirates. She nearly cringed at the letters she found, all signed with a flourishing…

Yours truly,

Elizabeth.

The sun had set when she crawled into the bed, knowing that it was long before James would retire and discover her. Undoubtedly he would give up his cabin to her, but she did not want to be discovered until it was nearly a day afterwards and they were unable to return back to Port Royal. She wanted this, as much as it was a spur of the moment impulse decision, she knew she would be granted passage on the Dauntless, as much as it infuriated him or caused frustration from the crew.

Elizabeth always got her way and she was rather smug about it too.

She had used the chamber pot earlier and now rested on the bed. Before she knew it her eyes had fluttered closed and she rested peacefully on his pillow. It smelled only faintly of him, of gun powder and the distinct smell of horsehair wig. Ghastly thing. It was also the unique smell of spices and male. The hint of lime that he seemed to be always eating, even while he was on land. She fell asleep, comparing the smell of leather to the smell of gunpower. The sound of steel hitting steel to the sound of a commanding voice giving orders. She pictured dark hair and eyes that burned with passion, a man that was once a boy that stood strong between Commodore Norrington and Jack.

She thought of Will, even as she slept in her betrothed bed and was surrounded by every evidence of his presence. She still thought of the man she loved and not the man she was devoted to.

It was rather late in the night that she awoke to the staggering feet of her fiancée, undoing his coat and carefully hanging it up for the next morning. His wig was placed on its stand and dark hair was revealed. He was obviously exhausted, too exhausted to notice a woman in his bed. He untied his cravat, took off his boots, and suddenly she felt extremely shy and exposed in her dress laying atop his bed while he remained oblivious.

He was nearly fully undressed when he lit a candle and came close enough to see her sun bleached hair spread across his pillow.

“Elizabeth!” He shouted and nearly dropped the candle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed.
> 
> The book titled Fables, Ancient and Modern by John Dryden was a real book published 1700s. Pirates of Caribbean wiki said that the first movie was set 1720-1750 so I used that as probable.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Masturbation warning

Word Count: 3126

Chapter 3

“Elizabeth,” and suddenly fury enveloped his face.

She scurried a little further down the bed, sighing and huffing. “Don’t scold me,” she said petulantly. She played with the covers slightly, picking at the seams of the quilt that was laid over his bed. A quilt made up of blues, greens, and white. An obviously handmade quilt. One with ships and the sea, a navy quilt. The color of his eyes.

“I am not going to scold you.” He set down the candle on the side table, pinching between his eyebrows in frustration. “Why are you here, Elizabeth?” was the tired reply.

“I…I don’t know.” She sighed, lifting up her chin to meet his eyes, which were darker in the candlelight. “I just thought…what if and suddenly I was climbing underneath your dirty bed and…and waiting for hours because I knew you’d turn back around if you knew I was on board.” She smiled slightly, a little twist of amusement in her face. “You know you did say you would take me on trips with you, so I can hardly be blamed for jumping on the opportunity.” She was always like this, twisting words for her own satisfaction.

“Elizabeth,” he bowed his head, running his hands through his hair in frustration. James frowned. “That is hardly what I meant and you know it.”

She sat up on the bed, crossing her arms. Elizabeth stared deeply into his frowning face and felt like all words had dried in her mouth, as if her mouth was the desert. 

James sighed heavily, grabbing his desk chair and bringing it over to the side of the bed. Almost like she was in her sickbed rather than having stowed away. “I don’t want you to think you can simply get away with treating me like your father. I am not one to be manipulated or cajoled into something and I cannot say I would have allowed you to come if you asked, but Elizabeth – “

“I didn’t expect you to be happy.”

“You can’t simply act on a whim.” He said, ignoring the comment. “You need to think of the consequences of your actions. I know you’re young, but I cannot allow you to simply overstep yourself with me. I have responsibilities. I have a position that is precarious. It isn’t like your father’s.”

“I am not so young as to not know my own mind.” Once again, she felt herself bristling with anger.

“You’ve always known your own mind.” James laughed softly. “Even as a girl, you would hardly sit still for lessons or follow rules of propriety. I cannot count how many times I have seen you standing alone outside my office, enticing me into giving you stories and sweets.”

“I wanted to come because I don’t want to simply sit at home planning a wedding and awaiting your return.”

He took her hand in his, squeezing it slightly. “I know that is not the type of life you want, Elizabeth. And I am perfectly capable and willing to provide for you in any fashion to make you as happy and content as your acceptance of my proposal has made me.”

She blushed, remembering her own resentment of his proposal.

But suddenly, he became very serious and the hand clutching her hand grasped tighter. “I don’t want you to be here to search out Mr. Turner. He is doomed as far as the law goes.”

Hugging her knees to her chest, she nodded carefully, eyeing him as he sighed and brushed his hand through his hair. He was handsome, but not nearly as handsome or dashing as Will. She reminded herself of that, even sitting on top of his bed and the scarce space between the two of them. “I don’t want to see Will. I doubt you’ll be able to catch the fastest ship that sailed the seven seas.” She said haughtily. 

The look he gave her was merely a flick of his eyes, nearly an eyeroll and a glare mixed together. “Don’t say a word of that to the crew. I have all the faith in the world that Jack Sparrow – “

“Captain – “

“Will make a mistake,” he continued, ignoring her interruption. He released her hand, sighing softly. “If we do run into the Black Pearl, I do not know what I can do with you. I don’t want you to endanger yourself for these criminals.”

“James, you have my word I will do nothing to help them escape. I know my place.”

He sighed once again. “So you say.” Bitterness crept into his voice.

“I have given you no evidence to not take me at my word.” She huffed. “I am a gentlewoman and when I give my word, I take it very seriously. I will not aid them…” she hesitated, “but I will not see them hang. I could not bear it. I chose to stand by you and for the rest of my life, I will do the same.”

“I don’t expect that from you and if I can spare you any amount of pain, I would.” 

“I know.” This was said quieter, hugging her knees in tighter even as he moved closer and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. 

“I care very deeply for you, Elizabeth.” This was said as he stared deeply into her eyes and suddenly, the room was thick with tension.

“I care for you too, James. Just…not…just not the way you do.”

“I know,” and a crooked smile appeared on his face. “I know that all too well. But I appreciate you -” a kiss on her palm, “all the same. My love for you won’t diminish because you cannot yet return my feelings.”

“Maybe with some time…”

“Maybe…” It was said in a sardonic tone, but the brightness of his eyes made no mistake for the happiness he felt for her. Although she was a little naïve, she innately understood the power she held over men. Especially considering the situation they found themselves in and she did not fear him…no she could never fear James, but the tension was thick in the air and it made her skin itch.

“Is it too much to ask for some food?” She smiled winningly, feeling the cramp of hunger in her stomach.

Immediately he jumped to his feet. “Of course,” he spun around and hurried out the door. “I’ll return momentarily.”

///

It was late in the night and the first watch had just started, which meant his watch would start in nearly three and a half hours. Enough for a short nap but not enough to keep Elizabeth company. Especially since he had been in there for nearly a quarter of an hour. It was only a four hour watch, but he would need to relieve Gillette.

“Commodore, I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” Gillette approached him, his swagger an easy tell-tale sign of his identity even before the candle highlighted his handsome face.

“I would have, until I discovered someone in my bed.” Gillette raised his eyebrows, “Elizabeth stowed away.” 

There was a moment of silence…and then a smirk. “You know, there are worse things than having your fiancée in your bed.”

A hand clamped him on the shoulder. “And there are worse things than being demoted.” Gillette laughed good naturedly. “Of course, I should have expected this when I did not see her waiting for us to set sail. I should have checked more thoroughly for stowaways.”

“Where did she hide?”

“Underneath the bed.”

“Well, I would keep her hidden until the morning when you have to break it to the rest of the men that you have a woman aboard.”

The Commodore sighed heavily. “I am not looking forward to having her aboard myself. I can’t help but think she is scheming something.”

Gillette shrugged his shoulders, having never been a fan of Elizabeth himself. “Perhaps she just missed you.” Gillette nudged him, winking. “After all, you found her in your bed. There would have been worse places to find her.” He laughed uproariously, as if he had made the wittiest remark.

James flushed slightly, an image of a rather more…receptive Elizabeth coming to mind. He huffed. “I hardly think this is an appropriate conversation.”

“If there is anyone to have this conversation with, it’s going to be me. Considering our relationship.” Gillette swung his arm around his shoulders, smiling. “Where are you headed? Down below for some sleep before second watch?”

James groaned silently to himself, just thinking about the hammock calling his name instead of his nice, cotton-stuffed bed that now belonged to Elizabeth. “No, the fair lady has not eaten since dawn this morning. I am trying to find some salted pork and biscuits from the kitchen. Maybe some beer or some wine if we can manage it.” 

The cook was none too pleased to have an extra mouth to feed and even less pleased that the Commodore was invading his space. But by the end of it, respect won out and he had a plate of beef and biscuits. Typical navy fare and not at all the decadence she’d be used to, but beggars cannot be choosers. Perhaps next time she would eat with them and the cook would be willing to cook a traditional captain’s fare as there was plenty of livestock aboard for the occasion. Although, usually Commodore Norrington did not partake in such festivities compared to his counterparts, he enjoyed eating with his men than his own chambers. Although if he had eaten in his chambers, perhaps he would have discovered Elizabeth before it was too late to return to Port Royal. Her father must be sick with worry. Or pleased beyond belief. Probably already planning the wedding for their return.

When he returned from his mission, he opened the door to her standing and pulling her hair into a simple braid compared to the messy, slightly pinned look she had before. She had pins lodged in between her teeth charmingly. As if she had just begun pulling them out one by one. She positively beamed at the food, however, and he felt foolish for his awestruck attitude just faced with her in a simple dress and braid. Although it was his chambers they were in…

“Thank you, James.” She said, taking the plate from his hand and settling on the floor, her back resting against his bed. “You are welcome to stay with me or if you need to sleep, I assure you I have slept plenty.”

Something was caught in his throat and he coughed lightly to relieve himself of the pressure, giving her a chastising look. The thought of sleeping in the same bed as Elizabeth was perhaps a little too tempting and laughing at fate’s face. He had enough self-control for the both of them, but he was just a man. Elizabeth had too little self control, as evident by her standing before him. A man faced with irresistible beauty and a carefree attitude towards scandal. Although there would be scandal merely at the fact that she boarded a ship with him with no proper chaperone and no doubt they would be married shortly after they returned to port. He had very little regret in that department.

“I would rather stay awake and talk, if it is all the same to you.”

She blinked. “Of course,” charmingly, she smiled. “I expect you have a great deal of things to say to me.” A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth.

He shrugged. A careless gesture that she perhaps had never seen him display before, or rather, never in such a causal dress without his coat, his wig, and his usual demeanor. It was rather becoming.

“I am sorry the food is not what you are used to, but you will have to get used to such things aboard a ship.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Do you really think that I care much? I knew that I would not have the same luxuries. Although, I wasn’t really thinking other than I wanted to go with you. Or rather, simply leave Port Royal.”

“Of course, I will try and provide everything necessary to make your stay more comfortable.”

“And I assure you,” she leaned forward flirtatiously, “I do not expect any level of treatment than what your fellow crewmates receive.”

“You know that is impossible, Elizabeth.”

She raised her eyebrow mockingly. “I have always wanted to sleep in a hammock.”

He outright laughed, a creasing at the corners of his eyes belying his years at sea. He was rather young to have wrinkles or creases of any kind. “You know you’ll sleep in the cabin.”

“With you, of course.” Elizabeth leaned closer, staring directly into his eyes and smiling wickedly. She was always like this. Ever since her debut she was a flirtatious mess, always daring to cross the line with him and with several other young men that courted her. He was always a gentlemen and always kept her slightly distant to not overstep boundaries. He could think of several moments of false swooning and the occasional disappearance into the gardens. Nothing too scandalous, she was still innocent he had no doubt, but was very aware of the power she held over men.

“Don’t say such things, Elizabeth.” She had never seen such an expression on a man’s face. It was not a rebuke, no, instead he was blushing to the tips of his ears and he had a rather…unusual look to him. One she could not pinpoint.

“Why not?” She smiled, biting into the rough, salted beef and staring at him with raised eyebrows.

“Because it is rather too tempting. You are playing with the devil, Elizabeth.” His throat was dry, eyes dark with lust.

It was not an expression familiar to her, perhaps on other young men that had courted her…but never James. Never stern, duty-above-all-else James. “I wouldn’t say anything.” She smiled once again, enjoying teasing him even though she knew he would refuse. “It’s not like Port Royal will care when we return. They will assume the worst anyway.”

“My men would care.”

She shrugged, taking another unladylike bite of the salted beef. “I think most of them would be tickled to see you enjoy yourself.”

He huffed, turning slightly away from her as if ignoring her would solve his problem than address the temptation of sleeping next to her. He did not trust himself...and it wasn't like she was being serious, anyway. Suddenly, the spacious cabin quarters seemed too small, too confining, and stifling compared to the open air on deck. She stared, smiled, and chatted happily at him. He leaned against the bed, sitting off to the side so he could face her. She kept chatting, the words soon blurring together as she took his hands and squeezed them. It was getting harder and harder to focus.

“Are you going to stay, James?” Elizabeth smiled. “I can tell you that I will sit at the desk and read for the next three hours until your watch.” 

“No, no,” he stood, swaying slightly from the rocking of the boat and the sleepiness that overtook his body. He leaned forward and clutched her shoulders to steady him. She stared up at him from her seated position, her doe-like eyes blinking up at him. Her mouth was parted just slightly, a hint of teeth. He could feel himself stir at the look and the position they were in. Her on her knees and him standing above her, clutching her shoulders in his rough hands.

It was like a bow being pulled taut. He was so…in love with her. Incandescently, ardently, and doomed to be subjected to her flirting but not her love. This thought was like a bucket of water being thrown on top of him after drinking, drunk on her presence and her flirting. He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles as he left. Listening as she called out, “Goodnight, James,” and staggered below deck to the hammocks. He swung into the closest empty one he could find, feeling his heartbeat rapidly pulsating in his cock. 

His heart was being crushed between smooth, fine fingers. James remembered admiring them one time while she played the piano, remembered the expression and the long fingers. He had stood behind her, watching as she played Bach or Vivaldi. The slender, unblemished hands. She was slender everywhere, her waist he could span with both hands easily. She was also tall, limber, and not quite boyish as she was still very womanly. She was just less curvaceous as some, which was what he found his taste ran. He pictured her plump lips, the hair that always curled around her face, framing those lovely, hazelnut eyes. The expression she had as she leaned forward, a hint of breasts peeking at him from the top of her dress. He thought of smooth legs wrapped around his waist, waking up to the smell of vanilla and sea. 

He took his cock in his hand, giving it an experimental squeeze. Immediately feeling the surge of pleasure and it easily hardened in his grasp. He pictured her lips as she asked him to share their bed. James thought of the way her lips would hover around his cock, lick it, kiss it, tentative at first but progressively becoming more and more daring as she always was. She was daring and bold and he imagined sex would be just the same. Her fingers clutching his balls, giving them a light massage. Her lips stretching around the head of his cock. He sighed softly, gripping himself harder and harder. Stroking, caressing with sure fingers of someone who had done this many, many times before. Many times, he had wanked off to the same image of lips stretched around him, sharply breathing in, the sounds of her saliva and the warm heat of her mouth. It was a tunnel of pleasure. Tasting him and licking the precum from the tip of his cock, the slit bright with liquid. She would swirl him in her mouth before diving down, taking him deeper and deeper into her throat. He kept that image in his head, sometimes imagining shy hands gripping the base of his dick and jerking him off herself. Sliding a hand slick with precum and saliva up and down his throbbing cock. She would smile that sinister curve of her lips that meant she was very, very pleased with herself. She would move to her knees, placing herself between his legs as she bent downwards to suck and tease his member. Inhaling deeply as he filled her mouth with his cum.

His hands were sticky…

But he slept wonderfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched typical navy fare  
> Bedding for the cabin's quarters  
> Appropriate composers for 1720s-1750s  
> Watch times and how they rotate  
> If you want any info I can send you links.   
> Also follow me on tumblr for some inspiration for fanfics after this one is done. Inspiration for this fic and just general updates. My name is Rickashay underneath there too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of semen from previous chapter

Word Count: 3988

Chapter 4

It was before the second watch started that James hauled himself out of the hammock. The snores and stirring of his fellow men his good morning, the stickiness of last night was already invisible and dry. He huffed as he realized he would have to sneak back into his cabin to retrieve his belongings: his vest, his coat, and his wig. Gillette had seen him in a state of undress before, so it hardly bothered him as it would with some other crewmate. But it was like someone walking around naked, at least that was how he felt when his men saw him in any state of undress. Even when his men were meeting to retrieve Elizabeth and when _Mr. Turner_ inserted himself, he had merely cast off his hat and retained the uniform. He remembered that moment with bitter loathing, realizing he should have realized the depth and feeling in the boy’s voice.

_But in the end, the better man won._ He thought smugly to himself.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak in the dark back into his cabin, searching for his wig and coat. He had probably three hours of sleep total before his watch started. Although he could have easily negotiated with a different watch or even made one of his officers take charge instead, in such the early beginnings of a mission, he enjoyed the extra work. It was easy to make mistakes and really it was for his own sanity that he kept a vice-like grip of control on his ship. It was perhaps one of the many reasons why his men still respected him because he continued doing the labor of a lieutenant.

When he walked through the door in his cabin, he tiptoed the rest of his way, meandering through his belongings until he found his uniform and wig. Elizabeth had stirred slightly, eyes opening in confusion and staring around with a bewildered look.

“Shh, go back to sleep.”

She stared at him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He had yet to put his coat on or even his vest, with its absurd number of buttons, and so he was standing there in his shirtsleeves. He stood there, watching her as she settled down but facing him with a slight, sleepy smile on her face. She sighed softly.

He smiled to himself, enjoying the curious eyes that watched him as he readied himself. Each button and clasp were as familiar to himself as the back of his hands. It was no time at all that he was perfectly in place. She still watched, eyes shining in the dark. It was surprisingly domestic. It felt almost illicit. Or dreamlike in his eyes. Captured by the skin of his teeth. A reminder of what would happen upon their return to Port Royal; a wedding, marriage, a life together, without the presence of pirates and curses. A wife. A husband. A _home._ He knew he idealized the thought of marriage, pictured children and reading late in the afternoon. He dreamed of garden parties, a beautiful woman on his arm and smiling, always smiling. More than an accomplishment, but something more dignified and meaningful.

“You look happy,” she murmured in the dark.

James took that as express permission to come closer, watching as she rolled to her back and hair cascading across the pillow. Her doe-like eyes wide and curious, still glazed with sleep but content in that haze that enveloped us all as we awoke. She was still wearing her dress and he wondered if she needed help out of it.

He sat at the edge of the bed, taking a hand in his and squeezing it gently. “I am happy.” He wished she had not snuck onto the ship, but as there was nothing he could do about it now. He might as well enjoy the companionship of his future wife without the hovering of her father. He loved Governor Swann, without a doubt, yet the time spent alone with Elizabeth since her debut four years ago was sparse. This was a chance for her to meet him as a man. Not as a friend of her fathers or as someone to toy with, but as a man.

As James.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, gazing down with his emerald eyes as she looked up at him from her lashes. She was beautiful. Dark blonde hair, smelling like sleep and _bed_ and uniquely vanilla. She swallowed, leaning forward and his mind wandered back to their kiss in the gardens. Her lips pursed slightly in anticipation.

He smiled.

And withdrew.

She huffed at him, eyes glittering in the darkened room… but she was smiling. A unique expression that he had rarely seen on her face when present with him.

“Breakfast is served in nearly four hours when my watch ends. I suppose we could eat inside here.” He looked around, his homey cabin lacking in furniture but not in taste or elegance. It was neat and tidy.

“Where do you usually eat?”

“With my men, but – “

“Then we will eat with the men. We have to announce my presence sooner or later. At least this time there is no Mr. Gibbs to tell me over and over again how ominous it is to have a woman aboard.” She said jokingly.

“There are some superstitious men aboard.” He replied, warningly. He leaned forward and pressed his lips quickly to her forehead before straightening. Eight bells sounded and he smiled as he took his leave, not even bowing as he closed the door behind him.

Left behind, Elizabeth wondered at the sight of him getting ready for the day…wondered and thought about how _domestic_ it was and exactly everything she had never wanted. But there was something…something picturesque about it that she enjoyed. Something that changed him. She wondered if it would have been the same with Will, if marriage would have changed him into something else or if he would have remained his boyishness.

James was a puzzle, someone so reserved and yet in private it shed like a snake in its skin. She wondered if as each button was buttoned and each clasp was clasped, whether it was like each piece was pulled into place to make him into the Commodore instead of James. James, in his shirtsleeves, wigless and seemingly naked in comparison to the made up version that resided in her head.

What was underneath the uniform and where was the man?

Who was James…?

///

Elizabeth awoke before the sun and before the bells for breakfast. It was annoying sleeping as her strays were pulled tightly and didn’t allow for very much comfortability when sleeping. She had contemplated asking James to loosen them so she could shimmy out of her dress and into something more comfortable, like one of the crimson jackets and white britches that she had fondly wore during her…adventure. Then she had imagined his hands on her waist and the already domesticity that they were experiencing watching him dress. Not to mention actually using those words for him to undress her, they were swallowed before they could be spat out. The intimacy between the two of them needn’t be so…entrenched. She mindlessly went about her business for the time being, listening for the sound of men working as the sun rose.

There were a lot of mementos spread about that she could snoop into, which was one of her favorite pastimes. She found atlases with charted courses of the Indies, the Americas, and several other places she had only dreamed of going. She knew he had many adventures and had sailed since he was a young boy. His father was an Admiral, she remembered vaguely, and found further evidence when peering into a book that was left dusted on a shelf. Those were the most fascinating. The things he kept but did not touch. The things that were dusted were obviously precious to him, like the ship in the bottle that her own father had gifted him when he had made captain. There were several things lying about that were just simply there, taking up space. The dusted books titled _Gulliver’s Travels_ was inscribed with his name from Admiral Lawrence Norrington and she felt a shiver of curiosity. It was a first edition, published in 1726 and so probably a gift when he had made Captain. She had always imagined the Admiral as being a rather cold hearted man and not one to express much affection considering how cold James could be, and the hatred of pirates was definitely something fostered from a source and one that festered in James. There had been countless conversations between her father and James about the admiral and her curiosity was brimming.

She sat down at his desk and opened up _Gulliver’s Travels._ It was full of satire and wit, so it was enough to entertain her until the bell for breakfast was sounded and a knock on the door announced James.

When he stepped in, she noted the faint smile and the immediate relaxation of his shoulders as he took in his quarters. He was in familiar surroundings, in his element, and it made him happy. She had scarcely seen him genuinely happy and the relaxation he expressed was a curious thing. She set aside the book, noting his eyes flickering over it with brief recognition.

“I was not snooping.” Elizabeth stated, ignoring the obviousness that she was, in fact, snooping.

“Of course not. This will be your home for the unidentifiable future. Anything in here you are more than welcome to, but I am curious,” he murmured as his fingers plucked at the books spine, picking it up with a critical eye. “Why you’ve chosen _Gulliver’s Travels_ out of all things to read. I have vastly more interesting things for you to snoop into.”

“It was a gift from your father. There is little I know of you, despite being acquainted with you these past eight years.”

James sighed heavily, dropping the book on the desk with a slight thud. “It was a gift, no doubt given to me by my mother, and at the expense of my father. He probably was not even aware of or barely remembers the gifts my mother sends in his name.”

“It is a book about adventure.” Her brown eyes sparkled.

“It is indeed. I suppose you have yet to reach the Voyage of Brobdingnag?” She shook her head and James smiled. “His ship is literally named _Adventure_ and I have no doubt named in the same spirit as you are reading it.” He sighed softly as he took her arm. “Let us introduce your presence to the crew.”

As soon as the cabin door closed behind her, there was a stillness to the men’s work. Breakfast was served on the open deck as per usual and it was easy enough for the Commodore to place both of them at a seat. Oatmeal was its typical fare and she enjoyed it thoroughly as the midnight snack had long since passed. The Commodore seemed unbothered by the simple food and remained silent even as several eyes glanced at them. Some muttered underneath their breath, some joked, and some unabashedly stared in her direction. Through it all she smiled and charmed them, speaking to those next to her and glancing in the direction of the stern visage of her husband-to-be. It immediately lightened as Lieutenant Gillette swaggered his way to them, smiling with his own bowl of porridge and setting beside Norrington in a comfortable, easy fashion of one who had done it many times. He sat like someone who needed to take as much space as possible, posturing himself with knees spread out and an arm winding around his nearest neighbor in an overly friendly fashion. He also sat directly in front of her.

“Did the lady sleep well?” Gillette said, his grin suggestive and eyebrows quirked in the direction of Norrington. The Commodore rolled his eyes. “I assure you that the Commodore slept quite well below deck.” Gillette continued, unbothered by the guffaws of the other men. “Although I have yet to see you since we have shipped out early yesterday morning, how do you fare, Lizzy?” The easiness of her nickname slipping off his tongue was enough to grate on her nerves. There was a half-hearted glare from Norrington and a droll look that passed between the two of them. It was a silent communication that she was not a part of, and it made her hackles rise with irritation.

“The Captain’s quarters are accommodating, thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, the Captain’s quarters are quite spacious.” He sighed, spooning a mouthful of oatmeal into his mouth. He grinned. “I have found them to be quite comfortable myself.”

The Commodore’s eyes crystalized and he gave an inhale of irritation.

“It is rather more comfortable than sleeping on a hammock, I am sure.” She said sedately, watching as the two men traded looks that meant nothing to her. It felt like a game, a game that she was participating in but did not know the rules or the players. She felt another wave of irritation towards Gillette, as he had never liked her in the first place.

“Sometimes the hammocks are a lot more comfortable because of the noises of my fellow men. The privacy for other _activities_ is what the Captain’s quarters are especially useful.”

“Gillette – “the Commodore said warningly, eyes flashing.

“Yes, it is a nice place for a good book to read or a game of chess I suppose. I doubt you are given much free time aboard the ship, Lieutenant?” She said, filling a spoonful of porridge herself as she watched them with raised eyebrows. She had rarely seen his subordinates interact with him and the easiness between the two of them was…odd.

He shrugged, glancing to Norrington and still managing to smile at her. “Not much free time, no. I am sure to have even less of it with you aboard now.” Some of the men nearby laughed. “You will keep the Commodore plenty occupied instead of focused on his duties.”

“Gillette, that’s enough.” James breathed out, the darkening of his eyes a clear indication of his irritation. “She will hardly be a distraction.”

“Of course,” he responded soothingly, placing an arm around his superior’s shoulders in an overly friendly manner. “But if I was in your place,” he purred and playfully gripped the lapels of Norrington’s coat, “She’d be plenty of a distraction.” This was said too quietly for the other men to hear, but Elizabeth turned scarlet at the insinuation.

James…

James smiled slightly and looked at her.

She would have thought he would have been deeply offended by Gillette’s suggestive tone, but instead he smiled and leaned into his Lieutenant’s space, joked and laughed with the rest of them. Elizabeth remained silent, watching as they interacted with each other and moving into a different direction of conversation. They talked about Groves and him trailing behind them only to get into all sort of mischief, talking of midshipmen’s wives and those they left behind. She was not ignored, not precisely, but the easiness and friendliness of the two of them made it nearly impossible to insert herself between the two of them. Instead it was as if the whole world revolved around the crew and its maintenance; a world that she had never been welcomed into and never the comradery between Gillette and Norrington. They had sailed with each other for years, both of a similar age and rank, and both handsome. One that was dignified and the other a snake charmer. They circled each other in conversation, joking, laughing (or in James’s case chuckling softly) and at obvious ease with one another.

She stared. Silent. When James was done eating, eating at a much slower pace than either Gillette or her, he escorted her back into the cabin while Gillette sauntered away somewhere, having the audacity to wink at her as he left.

“Was he really insinuating that we were…?” she paused slightly, trying to find the right words to not embarrass him. A slight color rose to the highs of his cheeks, even the tips of his ears turning a faint brick color, but as soon as the cabin door closed and it was just the two of then, he grinned.

“He was just being foolish. He knows I would never do anything to compromise you and the crew knows me well enough to know that nothing will happen between the two of us, even with the door’s closed.”

“That is rather singular…”

James shrugged slightly. “It is singular, but when you know these men for eight years character speaks louder to these men than to those of nobility at Port Royal. Out on the sea, a man is only as good as his characters proves to be. What will pass off here will never at home. These men trust me with their lives and know that nothing will come in the way of my duty to them. They all care very greatly for my health and happiness. Your unexpected presence is more food for joking than actual scandal.”

“You have created yourself quite a reputation with your men.”

He shrugged slightly, placing his hands behind his back and leaning into her space slightly. He was smiling, just a slight curl of his lips. “It is something that I have longed to achieve and take a great deal of pride in, my relationship with my crew and the respect and honor I have been given.”

“I have always thought you were rather cold because of your experience as a Captain.” She said unthinkingly.

He blinked, looking a little wounded. “Perhaps I am cold at port, but I am a different person when we are at sea. I am a hard taskmaster, but my crew respects and honors me. There is a good reason why I have earned the reputation that I have as it was not built by myself, but by the sweat and hard work of several men.” He paused in his little speech to grasp her hand in his, squeezing gently as they moved to the desk. “I am not a cold person. I have very strong feelings, Elizabeth. Surely you must know that?”

“Of course,” she paused. The silence was heavy between the two of them. “I know you have strong emotions, James. You are just a man. Any man has feelings. But I – I never thought of you feeling strongly about anything. Your thoughts and feelings have never really crossed my mind.” This made her sound unfeeling, but it was truthful and if there was one thing that James respected, it was truthfulness. “My father told me you fancied me. I had no idea otherwise.”

His eyes were unfathomably deep when he pressed her hand to his chest and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “I have always looked at you and marveled at your spirit, Elizabeth. As you have gotten older, you’ve only grown more lovely until I could scarcely recognize my own feelings for you and what they were.”

“Perhaps I am slightly oblivious.” Elizabeth smiled slightly, ignoring the squirming inside of her at the _wrongness_ of his confession and her own unsettled feelings.

“Perhaps,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I would not have you any way than what you are, Elizabeth. Stowing aboard or embroidering, my depth of feelings for you could scarcely be described. You must allow me to tell you how much I admire you,” and gazing into her walnut eyes, he added, “You’re a fine woman.”

“Thank you, James.” She said, finding it quite sincere. “I will endeavor to live up to your expectations.”

For whatever reason, this made him frown but he said nothing as they settled across from each other at his desk. “Perhaps you’ll engage me in a game of chess?”

“You have a chess board?” She exclaimed, watching as he moved around the cabin with a familiarity born of being its occupant.

He chuckled. “I remember you quite loathing chess.”

“I do.” She said, adding, “But I am rather bored here and you are to entertain me, yes?”

“Bored on your adventure,” he chuckled jokingly, “whatever shall you do?”

“Don’t tempt me, James.” Her eyes sparkled as he started placing the pieces row by row. “I was once a twelve year old girl who climbed into the brig and pretended to be a captured pirate. Or when I tried handling the sails under the watch of the boatswain. Don’t you dare tempt me to act on my impulses, James.”

“Your impulses are rather endearing. They were then and they are now, if not a little more scandalous.” He smiled, moving a pawn. “If you climbed into the brig and pretended to be a pirate, I don’t know what Gillette would do with you.”

“Capture me probably.” She remarked offhandedly, and there was a pregnant pause. “You two are rather friendly.”

“He has been my dearest and longest friend.” He replied simply.

“He would be a hard man to scandalize.” She mused. “I suppose I’ll have to be quite creative in the next coming days. I will enjoy the challenge.”

Immediately his eyes shot up to meet hers.

“For my sake, do try and not jeopardize my reputation.”

She laughed, “I can think of plenty of other things to scandalize your crew, who all have seen me in my chemise and marooned on an island with one of the most notorious pirates. If I have not scandalized them yet, I scarcely can believe what I can do next to actually cause an issue.”

“I beg you, please behave.” He said, slightly sarcastically and partially serious. She could be rather daring sometimes, and Gillette could be…rather scandalous himself. “I extinguished any possible word of your supposedly damaged reputation and they all know the depth of your character. Your misadventure is hardly a matter of concern to them.”

Their eyes met, hers shining with mirth and his blank with thoughts swirling of all the ways they could be _scandalous_. Although, he doubted it was even be an issue with his crewmates…much less Gillette. If anything, Gillette would ask some indecent questions and maybe some pettiness on his part, but it would be harmful to their reputation once they arrive back at port. Their reputation was probably already damned…especially with Elizabeth’s little episode with the pirates she was already on thin ice as it was with the nobility of Port Royal.

“I’ll behave.” She smiled and leaned forward, pressing her foot to his ankle and then teasingly stroking his leg with her foot. His skin crawled with nervousness and arousal.

“Of course, you will.” He said drolly, ignoring the foot that pressed against his intimately. Her smile widened.

“The question is, James…” Flirty thing that she was, she leaned forward until they were nose to nose. The neckline of her dress gaped at the front to reveal the curve of her breasts. His mouth was suddenly dry. “Will you behave?” She said cheekily.

“I have no doubt of my own behavior.”

She laughed, tilting her head back and revealing the slim column of her neck. “I have no doubt of your gentlemanliness.”

“Or your ability to tease me mercilessly.”

“You were well aware of the fact before our engagement, Commodore.” She said lightly.

“It is something I look forward to for the rest of my life.”

With this announcement, it cooled whatever fueled her flirtatiousness, and she leaned back to observe the game carefully. She moved her own pawn finally and soon it was a battle between the two of them, the silence between the two of them companionable and with the easiness of knowing each other for many years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gulliver's Tales was published 1726 and because Pirates of the Caribbean is supposed to take place between 1720-1750 I thought it was a good book for a young man commanding his own ship.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning(s): some coarse language and some heavy kissing

Word Count: 3841

Chapter 5

_Chess was incredibly boring…_ Elizabeth had decided.

The man behind the chessboard was obviously amused about her lack of strategy or knowledge of chess and her total lack of wanting to pursue any further prowess of the game. It was rather hard competing with a Commodore in the likes of strategy, war, and systematic demolition of tiny figures that each moved around the board in bizarre, unique ways.

What was not boring was the delighted expression each time he took victory, which was apparently the pattern of the game. She was more interested in the companionship than the actual game, which would have aggravated any man that she was not paying attention to their activity. But James seemed more preoccupied by conversation than winning, which he did handily. Conversation was strange, focused mainly on memories of her childhood that they shared or stories of his many misadventures when he was younger. The time that a pirate rescued him from drowning and the subsequent ire of his father. The shrapnel injury above his shoulder where a cannon ball had splintered the deck into his shoulder. That was before he was captain and before they had met. The odd accidental injury during training, the sword marks and scars, some whipping lines for disobedience, and the occasional injury from a childhood spent on an estate climbing trees and embarking on adventures with his two eldest brothers.

She learned a lot about James…

She learned that his father darkened his eyes slightly, a stiff lip and an unceasing frown at the mention of the Admiral. The slight disdain for the eldest son who played the gentlemen and lived off inheritance. Then there was the second eldest, the clergyman, his second brother that was sensitive and well suited for the church. His sister was discussed as the spitting image of his mother, a demure, lady-like woman with little personality and the traditional accomplishments among the fairer sex. He was the baby. He was the one that took the mantle his father placed and rose above the ranks to join his father’s station in life. Exceeded in expectation and yet still unloved, adored as the baby of the family among his siblings and mother, but a disappointment to his father. A third son and a burden. He was the one that carved a life of his own. He had tenacity and will, a stubbornness that Will never had. Will would never go beyond his own means, instead he would have remained fixated on being a blacksmith and all that required of him in regard to his profession. James was a warrior, a man with a plan, and one that would rise above the expectations set before him and exceed them. Will was a decent man, one that would give her anything and everything, they would never fight, they would have passionate, slow sex, and he would always care for her.

James would go toe-to-toe with her, challenging and accepting her all at once, he would give her his heart without the return of affection, they will fight and argue, and he was helplessly devoted to her.

Will left her behind.

Now she was with James on adventure, together, alone, and he seemed unperturbed by her presence on his ship. Unhappy she had snuck on the ship, yet delirious and desirous to spend time with her undisturbed. She knew Will would have been a partner to her, he would have done everything for her, and would hold a special place in her heart for his love for her.

But James was devoted to her without expectation and that power was heady, it gave her confidence and a vivaciousness that caused spine-tingling power. It was addictive. This game of fluttering her eyes, lingering touches, and every female power in her repertoire she would use against him and see his eyes lighten and darken depending on how far she pushed. She noted that skin-to-skin contact caused his eyes to darken, a flush to appear on the tips of his ears, but a smile that curled the ends of his lips with a sincerity that made her feel…feel like she was the one conquering and plundering. Fire. It was exquisite. The talks of style, of the future, and the sound of wedding bells caused him to lighten in a way that was like the sun coming through the clouds on a rainy day. Warmth.

This made her wonder…how far could she push him until he gave in? She knew the power she wielded against her father, always giving in and the lack of discipline that every governess complained about. She knew she was spoiled. James did not seem to be inclined to spoil her in that way. No doubt he would give her everything she needed in materialistic ways, but would he in uninhibited passion? Doubtful. He did not let her win or gain the upper hand as Will would have, for instance Will teaching her to wield a sword and “allowing” her to gain the higher ground. This was not James. James was a different male than what she was used to, one that was proud and held authority, respectability, and had the charisma to maintain a hold on his authority with good will from his subordinates.

Every opportunity that James moved a piece, she would stroke his leg with her foot, brush her bare hands against his, lingering eyes, a curious tilt to her head, and the smirking of a woman who knows their power. Elizabeth was a force to be reckoned with, a hurricane, a strong will, and a biting curiosity that caused such mischief. But innocent and discovering her power.

When he left for his watch, promising to return before she retired, he brushed his lips against her knuckles and she suddenly felt cold and childish. Teasing such a man! Unwilling to cross boundaries herself because she still remembered the rough hands of a blacksmith tending to her wounds, of childhood friendship, and a companionship that she longed for.

The question was…

Would she find companionship with James?

///

James was wound up. It was as if someone had cranked his heart tighter and tighter into a vice-like grip, wound up from innocent touches and some slight flirting. He had never expected her to be so receptive _and_ so unfeeling in her ability to unsettle him.

“Oh, love-sick Commodore!” Gillette greeted, an arm wrapping its way around his shoulders. James did not even shrug it off, but instead he leaned against his lieutenant and sighed.

“She is going to be the death of me, I swear it.”

Gillette laughed. “Every woman is the death of a man. Bosoms and bottoms and all.” James rolled his eyes at his uncouth behavior, but his mind wandered back to Elizabeth thinking of her own assets and peculiar behavior.

“You should have never proposed, remained a bachelor for the rest of your life and enjoy the freedom like me.” Gillette smiled roguishly. “I cannot imagine she’d be too thrilled if you visited a brothel when we finally make port?”

“Have I ever visited a brothel?” James laughed.

“A time or two,” Gillette shrugged. “The opportunity is gone, however, and perhaps when we make port you can find a lovely trinket for your loved one and she’ll lift her skirts for you.” He said callously, settling next to the Commodore at the helm of the ship. His arm still was swung around the Commodore’s shoulders, despite being the shorter of the two, and yet he was smiling in a soft way. “She is rather magnificent for stowing away. I cannot imagine many women being so unwilling to be left behind.” There was some amount of admiration in his voice, as well as plenty of envy.

“It is something that is constantly going to worry me every time I leave Port Royal from now on.” James replied. “It is remarkable that I didn’t think to look for her when I did not see her sending us off. I simply thought she had grown impatient.”

Gillette shrugged, his arm coming off his superior to grip the sword at his side restlessly. “She is impatient. I know you have an iron will, but she has a way of crawling underneath your skin to get what she wants. I cannot imagine if any of the other men’s wives doing the same thing that you’d be quite as patient or understanding.”

“I don’t think anyone would do such a thing, except for Elizabeth.”

“Too true.” Once again, Gillette clamped him on the shoulder, “And now she is yours to handle for the rest of your lives.”

James blushed and yet grinned boyishly. “She is.”

“Of course, we will support you in every way possible. Even if it means we port and find a captain to marry the two of you so you may enjoy your quarters again.” Gillette laughed at the idea…but James thought it rather had merit. The Governor would be horribly upset, but he always gave into Elizabeth.

Elizabeth would have to consent, and James wasn’t sure she was as committed as she said she was. Flirtatious, boundless energy to torture him undoubtedly. But devoted to him to the extent he was willing to go for their relationship? A hard no. A truth. For sure. It was something that he readily accepted it and he would encourage her own budding feelings. This was a perfect opportunity to enjoy her sole attention. She was obviously curious about the nature of their changing relationship, her long gazes and fluttering touches enough to send blood to his nether regions. But she was an innocent, unaware of her power over him and yet testing to see how far she could push him. He just needed to remember to push back instead of giving in. It would be too easy to give in.

“You should just bed her. I think it would resolve any confusion on her part on whom she belongs to now.”

“She is rather free spirited to ever think of herself as belonging to me.” James scoffed at the idea of a shackled Elizabeth, chained to him like a prisoner than a spouse. “If I bed her, it could cause unnecessary problems.”

Gillette raised an eyebrow in doubt.

“A child.”

“So? Pull out, James. You have every ability to control yourself. It isn’t foolproof but reap the benefits of having her conveniently available.”

James rolled his eyes. “You know it isn’t that easy.”

Gillette grinned mischievously, “She could be convinced.”

“Perhaps,” James sighed. “Is it something I am willing to risk? No. I understand the – “ he paused as if searching for the words, “the temptation of giving into my base needs. But she needs an honorable man and not one to easily give in. I have a stronger will than to fuck her.”

They looked around for a moment, bending their hands together to whisper. “She could be convinced. She hardly seems one to be proper or virtuous.” Noting James’s glare, Gillette quickly added, “I have no doubt of her virtue. It’s been protected for twenty years and she seemed to be well in control of the situation when we found her marooned. I am just saying,” he said frustrated. “I am just saying she would be inclined to give up some propriety in order to satisfy her own selfish needs.”

“I don’t think she is even aware of her own ‘needs’, Gillette.”

He chuckled softly, their heads nearly bumping together in confidence. “Every woman has their needs, James. She is just a younger woman who is undoubtedly confused about sleeping in a man’s bed and never having your previously unattainable attention. The only other candidate was a boy, not a man. You can give her all the attention she wants now. She will either accept or decline. I would push her. See how much she is willing to give away.” He shrugged, moving a little away as they gazed off to the distance. “I would not overwhelm her, but a few kisses or touches to build the relationship would not go amiss.” Gillette smiled, a shit-eating grin. “She might let you get further than either you or I expect. She is a rather independent, curious type of girl.”

“She doesn’t love me.” James said mournfully.

Gillette stared at his friend for a moment, noting the pinched look and the weariness in his eyes. “Aye, she loves the blacksmith’s apprentice. But it doesn’t mean she does not care for you or that she is unable to change her mind. A little bit of crossing the line seems like something that would convince her.”

James considered and considered some more even when Gillette left his side to catch a quick nap before they switched over once again. This was the easy part of the journey, praying for good wind and waiting for black sails. This was part of the journey he would enjoy the most.

The hunt.

This was the time he could watch with hands behind his back and observe his officers working. He stood there, shoulders back, as proud as a statue as if crafted by Michelangelo himself. He was in the prime of his life, twenty-eight years old and hardened by experience. He was wealthy enough to provide her every comfort and had the intelligence to keep pace with such a vivacious woman. Some would say she was the lucky one to catch him, but he considered it his own luck that she did not run off with an unworthy man. He was proud of the acceptance of his proposal, conditional although she would not admit it, and even more proud that she had stowed away aboard his ship instead of running off with pirates. She was his now, undoubtedly. She did not belong to him, but he was hers as she was his. Even if they managed to captured Sparrow and Mr. Turner, he would not allow her to escape him this time. He had given her plenty of opportunities to change her mind and she seemed more and more inclined to keep her promise.

He thought of the advice to give up on propriety when it came to Elizabeth and it felt…like the correct course. It could be his own selfish needs, but he knew that she did not want a life cradled away and handled delicately. He would need to proceed with caution.

///

Several hours went by, watches were switched off and on until it was nearing the second dog watch and it was at the end of the night that he decided to intrude into his own quarters once again. Of course, they saw each other during meals. She endured more of Gillette’s teasing and his thoughtful silence. He was silent. He could barely talk without glancing into her bright eyes only to swiftly look away, thinking about Gillette’s advice. Bosoms and bottoms and all. She seemed quieter herself, observing and enduring the teasing with an archness unique to herself. He caught her glancing at him with a scrutinizing gaze, an eyebrow higher than the other and lips gaping slightly in thought. She had plump lips and it was all he could think of for the rest of the day that he was going to taste them, part those lips with his tongue, and feel the soft velvet of her mouth.

It made him hard.

Thinking about the sweetness of her kisses and just the idea of pushing a little more. He was always so tightly wound up, so laced up into being proper and appropriate that the slightest give felt like a dam being broken.

He wanted to fuck her.

More than anything.

But he knew it was not the right time. The right time would be months from now when they would be married and they would have their own special night. He could assure it would be special than being fucked to the rocking of a boat or the sounds of men working. He wanted the quietness, the glow of candles, the sheets and house built for her. He wanted the romanticism and feel like he was not just using her for his own needs. He wanted the perfect wedding night like she deserved. He wanted the tenderness and love that he yearned for and the privacy that he would not get if he had her in his quarters. He wanted the privacy the most. Every gasp and moan would selfishly belong to him.

He could not help but picture the smug satisfaction from Gillette or the whispers of the men.

The thing that he did not understand and that the universe did…

It was that James was just a man and Elizabeth was a force to be reckoned with.

He knocked on the door, fully preparing to say goodnight and be off to his own bed with the crew. She had stood there, a candle lit in her hands, and he immediately thought of the glow of her skin and how it highlighted the blonde strands of her hair. He remembered leaning over her as those tresses caressed the bed and he mused about how he could tussle them further. He would run his hands through her hair, capture the sides of her face and press his lips to hers. He would press her up against the bed and part her legs for a space for him to lay between. She would gasp and he would plunder her mouth with his, tilting her head up for further access. He would move from lips to the slim column of her neck, pressing small, biting kisses and tasting the unique taste of her.

“James?” she said, watching him as he stupidly stood there.

Immediately, he cleared his throat and tugged on his cravat. “I thought you’d wish for some company before you retire?”

_This is a very bad idea…_ James thought.

She moved to the side, opening the door further. “Of course,” she murmured and tossed her head slightly, moving her hair from one side to the other.

He sat at the desk and she was poised opposite from him, the same way they had played chess. Instead there was nothing between the two of them except for the dim light of the candle that cast picturesque shadows on her face.

Gillette’s advice sounded strongly in his ears. Even as she idly played with her hair and stared off to the side, ignoring his quietness like she was apt to do when she felt like it. She only paused when he captured her hand in his and suddenly his mouth was unbearable dry and hot.

“May I kiss you goodnight?” he asked hoarsely.

In reply, she tilted towards him, her chin jilted forward and eyes murky in the night. A silent acquiesce and he could see her large pupils in the dark. He gently pressed his mouth to hers, shy and hesitant. It was a gentle kiss, a mere touch of their lips. She sighed into his mouth and suddenly his lungs expanded with breath. He parted the seam of her lips with his tongue, tasting the softness of her mouth and her silent affirmation.

They parted. Her eyes wide and surprised. He was breathing heavily as if he gripped his self-control with a vice-like hold. He had been thinking about kissing her all day. Imagined plundering her mouth…and suddenly…a mere brush of the lips was not enough for him. He moved shockingly quick to the other side of the desk, her eyes following him and mouth slightly agape. It was easy enough to press her against the hard wood of the desk, easier still to tilt her head towards his own and this time capture her lips with all the suppressed heat he had felt the entire day.

Suddenly, she moved like a puppet with its strings cut. Her arms wrapped around his neck. They deepened the kiss. Her responding hesitantly and him with unbridled passion. He listened for her gasps as he caressed her hips, pushing them against his own and closing any distance between them. He made good on his imagination, using his tongue to taste and caress her mouth. His hands moving along her hips and lower back to grip her thighs. She swung a leg around him, pressing the heat of her sex against his leg. He moaned, moving to press bite-like kisses to her neck and the space between her shoulder. He tugged at the dress, wanting to see more and feel more. His fingers plucked nervously at the material hiding her breasts from his eyes and suddenly he plunged inside, his wide hands cupping a breast and squeezing. She murmured nonsense, pressing against him further and dipping her back down to allow him access.

He wanted to fuck her. So badly.

But he would not.

It was not the right time.

He caressed her breast with one hand and grabbed her thigh that had wrapped itself around him in the other, tugging her close for one last, lingering kiss. He felt the velvet of her mouth, trying to imprint the memory of her returning the kiss. Her own smooth tongue and a nip at the bottom of his lips. She had obviously kissed before, humming in contentment as he kissed her softer. He pushed her leg off of him, sighing as he did so and felt her hands come rest against his shoulders. Her eyes were sparkling and looking up at him curiously. He leaned back, brushing a stand of hair from her face and admiring the flushed appearance he had created. He saw the red spots of his heated kisses on her neck, looking at them closely to see if they would bruise, and noted her softer movements. She was tender when she pressed her lips against his, standing on her tip toes to reach his lips. This was a lingering kiss, without deepening but full of meaning and intention. Her hazelnut eyes blinked and with the candle-lit room it cast a plane of shadows on her face and only highlighted her arousal.

He was aroused.

Yet, he kept his hands firmly planted on her hips even as she went forward for another brush of the lips. The heaviness and urgency had been left out of their kisses, instead they were sweet. When they parted to breathe, he pressed one last kiss to her forehead and stepped back. He looked at her. The mussed hair, the lowered neckline of her dress, and the blush that tinted her cheeks. It was gratifying, seeing her so thoroughly debauched.

But it needed to stop.

“Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

“James…” she murmured as he stepped away, the candle light highlighting her form in the darkened cabins. He looked back at her as he closed the door.

She did not love him. He knew that in his gut.

But she wanted him.

And that meant something.

He would tread carefully.

But that did not mean he would not kiss her again _like_ that.


	6. Chapter 6

Word Count: 4000

Chapter 6

James was an enigma…

He was laced up, button after button until you could barely see the man underneath. Each button and clasp represented another part of James that was hidden away until the Commodore stood in his place. The Commodore was all that was proper, even though he joked with his men, he demanded the respect and behavior of the crew that was rarely seen. She had heard of stories of midshipmen getting drunk and earning lashes, or men being punished for falling asleep on duty, and a slew of other insults like stealing from the cook that could earn a beating or some other form of physical punishment. This was rare on James’s crew.

It happened though on other crews, but she had yet to witness it on his.

She was on board for a week and it had yet to happen, but she had no doubt that it would happen sooner or later. When she sailed with her father from England, the only one punished was Mr. Gibbs for drunkenness and that was because they had tried to shield her as much as possible from seeing the harshness of ship life. She was sure there were others that were punished as it was not nearly as well managed as James’s command of the ship. He was just a lieutenant then and now he commanded his own team.

She knew the men visited brothels at port, drank, and fully embedded themselves into all sorts of scandalous behavior. Port Royal used to be renowned for their piracy, prostitutes, and drink. It wasn’t until James came along with Admiral Gafford that the town had changed. In one year alone, they had hung forty-one pirates in Port Royal and it became night and day in the coming years. This was just before she arrived and the city was deemed clean enough for her father to take her along. It was because of her father and the Royal Navy that Port Royal was the success it was.

It was a week on board that she finally decided to leave the little cabin that reeked of her sweat and body. She had come aboard and was immediately accosted by James, who would have course noted that she was out and about. She wanted a bath but the only bath that was allowed was to use buckets of water and sponge bathe, which was something she was quite willing to do.

“Please allow me to escort you?” He took her arm, tugging her along as they surveyed the deck together.

She inhaled deeply, the sea air filling her lungs with great compacity. She lived a life of luxury and that included taking baths, but there was no way to bathe aboard a ship as fresh water turned green easily and sea water was hardly suitable for her to bathe in. She would just have to suffer a sponge bath than soaking in a tub.

It was easy to notice that the men aboard smelled like sweat and salt as well. Even though it had been only a week. Some of them stood as she passed them by, some waved, and then on the other hand she was out-rightly ignored by others. If anything, this showed that the crew took extra notice of a young unmarried woman aboard. Some of the older crewmates on different ships had women aboard, although that was unlikely since James’s crew consisted mainly of men in the prime and in shape to fight pirates, and so there was no women aboard James’s ships. Even when there were women, they tended to be older and not a threat to the concentration of the men aboard. Women caused distractions.

Where Elizabeth moved, eyes followed her. This was something she barely noticed as it had happened since her debut when she was sixteen nearly four years ago. But it was noted rather grimly by her husband-to-be and his lieutenant. She was a distraction.

But James could deny her nothing.

“I was just becoming a little stir crazy and needed some fresh air.” She said as they walked up and down the deck.

“Of course, I do want you to know you do not need to hide in your cabins our entire journey.” He said, almost haltingly. “But I do not want my men to get distract by a pretty face when they have duties to attend to.”

She grinned. “A pretty face, eh? They hardly seemed distracted when they rescued me in my chemise.”

A becoming blush spread across his face and he cleared his throat. “You are plenty of a distraction to the higher ranking officers.” He said, which was rather sweet considering he admitted that she distracted him.

“Oh,” an eyebrow arched. “I suppose that is a problem that they must face alone and I can pretend not to notice such behavior.”

James was soon called away by some miniscule item and Gillette swaggered his way toward her, grinning a devilish smile. He swung an arm around her and leaned his weight against her. “The Commodore is busy, sweetling. I suggest you meander to your quarters before you further impede on our progress.”

“Have you made progress?” She asked boldly, taking the arm off her shoulders and flinging it away with a hint of disgust. Everyone smelled putrid. He was just scum.

“We believe the pirate and his underling is headed toward Tripoli.”

“How much longer will we be sailing until we close in on them?” Elizabeth asked.

Gillette shrugged, hands behind his back as he casually strolled beside her. His large form blocking the sun from shining in her face, but it cast a dark shadow. The thought of catching up to the Black Pearl cast a dark shadow on her. “Three months at most, two and a half if the weather stays on our side. Although I would give anything for a rain storm.” He chuckled.

“Why is that?” She asked.

“Why bathing of course.” He grinned, taking his hat off and swiping at the sweat that gathered at his brow. His wig glared brightly in the hot Caribbean sun. “Nothing like seeing sailors strip naked in the rain to enjoy some bathing.”

She felt her face heat and felt like such a ninny for blushing at an obvious attempt at disarming her. “I’ll be sure to peek out to catch a view.” She declared boldly.

Gillette barked out a laugh, clutching his stomach and stomping his foot. “I’ll be sure to steer your beloved in your eye sight. Buttocks and cock.”

Mortified, she glanced at James to see him staring at them with a hard glint in his eyes. This was enough to encourage him to abandon whatever mission he had been on to come to their side. “What are you telling her, Lieutenant?” He said this almost wearily.

Gillette’s walnut eyes twinkled playfully. “Just dreaming of a sun shower, is all.”

James glanced at her face, which was trying its damnedest to remain neutral, and furrowed his eyebrows. “We all wish for the rain for a respite of the heat.” He said cautiously.

“Yes, and for the bathing as well.” She said drolly.

Immediately, James tugged at his cravat and glared at Gillette. “There will be no stripping while a lady is on board. I cannot attest to that enough that we have to protect her virtue.”

Gillette had the nerve to laugh. “It will be the first thing I do once water hits my face is I am shucking off my clothes, women be damned. You’ll join me too, Commodore, and we can give our resources to your little filly for a sponge bath.”

“Can I take a sponge bath?” Elizabeth asked.

“Of course,” James coughed. “I will assure that you’ll get everything needed in your cabin tonight, but you are free to go back to your cabin.”

Feeling like this was a dismissal and irked that he had the nerve to order her about, she huffed her way back to the stuffy cabin and waited for her sponge bath. The thought of seeing all those men bare bottomed and splashing in the rain was a rather enticing one, so she found plenty of amusement in her daydreams as she laid atop her covers.

As it turned out, James was the one later on in the night to stop by with a bucket of water, a sponge, and a tub to stand in.

“I am sorry but I cannot do much else for you.”

Disappointed and missing her rose water dearly, Elizabeth smiled just slightly. “Thank you for the consideration.”

They paused together, both awkwardly standing next to each other and glancing at the bucket of water. He should excuse himself, but he found himself bound to the floorboards. “I assure you that none of us will strip down and bathe out in the open for you to see.” He said haltingly.

Elizabeth laughed slightly at the awkwardness. James’s hands behind his back and stooping down to become more level with her. “I would rather enjoy the sight, honestly.” Her molten eyes glistened with amusement as he blushed.

“If such an event occurs, I expect you to barricade yourself in here and not come out until we are done. Laundry usually occurs and bathing at the same time if we are lucky to get rain fall to Tripoli.”

“Bathing will occur?” She raised an eyebrow, amused and feeling something stirring in her stomach. A pleasant sensation that coiled and she recognized from her own explorations and the few times James was willing to kiss her, or that time when Will had bandaged her hand. It was riveting. Buttocks and cocks.

James leaned against the wall, taking off his hat and flinging it on top of the desk. “I doubt I could stop it even if I tried. The men would do it automatically even knowing you are here. We are allowed sponge baths but it is far easier to hope for rain and honestly, the rain is much more refreshing than a sponge bath.”

“I can imagine.” Her eyes twinkled. “I am excited to see the celebrations of rain. Maybe even become a peeping Tom myself.” She poked him in his chest.

James leaned forward, invading her space and for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again. But instead he grabbed a curl and twisted it around his finger. “Thank you for the present. I am very pleased to have a locket of your hair.”

It had been a bustling couple of days that he had not even discovered the locket of hair until nearly five days after the start of their voyage. It made him feel profoundly sentimental. He kept it above his breast pocket, wrapped up in her fine handkerchief, and in the night swinging in his hammock he would pull it out and up to his nose to inhale her scent. It smelled like rose water. This was an image that carried him as he tried to maintain the command of the ship whilst also wooing his bride-to-be and trying desperately to not give into base pleasure. He had tried maintaining his distance, feeling the taut line of control going tighter and tighter as they remained in each other’s company.

“I have a request for you, James.” Elizabeth stated, interrupting his thoughts.

“Anything,” he said eagerly, grasping a delicate hand in his and bringing it to his lips. He was constantly doing this, kissing her hands, breathing her in, and bowing to any possible need. She received the best out of the food. For instance, she received wine and everything that a captain could give her. Even some of the livestock was butchered to serve her a rather fetching dinner. He was worshipping her as if she was his god, sacrificing time and resources to please her. Even giving up his quarters for her to sleep in.

“Can you scrounge up some clothes for me to wear beside this dress?” Elizabeth didn’t even blush as she displayed her dirtied dress, sweat stained and all.

“A uniform?”

“Anything! Wearing something clean would do wonders for my disposition.” She smiled and he scooped up his hat from the desk and strolled out in his quest.

She stood behind, contemplating shocking him by bathing in the meantime and waiting for him in her shift. It was possible he would be done even before she finished bathing and nothing was more appealing than his embarrassment mixed with arousal at seeing him watch her naked form. This was something she would have enjoyed. She wanted to shock him into indecency. Further than where they had gone by kissing lustfully, but she wanted something…something more. It was only a week and she was already driven mad by instincts and the tight knot of nerves that coiled in her belly or the sensitivity of her clit from her…attention at night.

But she had a better idea. She needed him loosening her strays and having slept in her dress for the last week, it not only smelled but it was rumbled and uncomfortable. The strays had loosened on their own and she could probably at this point loosen them further, but there was nothing more enticing than feeling his hands at her back and the…tantalizing touches.

When he returned, he had a uniform in hand. He was watching her as she sat on the edge of the bed, apparently waiting for him. James dropped the pile of clothes at the seat of the chair, moving the bucket of water and the tub that she’d bath in, organizing mindlessly. He was flustered, a redness staining his neck and the tips of his ears.

“Would you help me out of my dress?”

For a moment, he stilled as he shuffled things around. He didn’t look back at her as his back was turned from her, but she could tell he took a long breath.

“Of course, my darling.”

Pet names were always a good sign.

She turned her back to him as he came up from behind, unlacing her dress with expert fingers. She sighed as the strays were loosened, glancing behind her shoulder to stare at his too bright eyes as he gazed at her.

“That is enough.” She said and he stepped back. She thought momentarily about allowing the dress to fall to the floor and bare herself to him, but she thought he would run off.

“You must have been uncomfortable.” He murmured softly.

Elizabeth smiled slightly. “It was not too uncomfortable. It was more uncomfortable sleeping in it than anything else.”

“You have not taken it off at all?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you think this was an attempt at seduction?” She said, despite her own thoughts concerning _that…_ it would be far too simple to allow him certain freedoms with her body. She also just wanted to see his face when she even suggested seducing him. It was tempting. Bugger propriety, as far as she was concerned. “Of course, I was unable to get out of my dress by myself. I have never dressed myself and have always had a maid to help me. This is a relatively simple dress in comparison to what I usually wear, but Estella and my father enjoy the rather extravagant lifestyle. I would prefer to dress simply. The strays are difficult, I assure you that I tried.”

“If you could wear breeches and shirttails, I am sure you would.” James said fondly, roving a hand down the side of her body in a caressing manner.

She turned, clutching the dress to her chest for modesty sake. “Of course, I would. Now, you need to leave before I grow impatient and you get an eyeful of my quim.”

Blushing, he stepped away, ignoring her coarse language but before he closed the door, he cast one last look over his shoulder to see the dress fall down and her in her shift. He had seen it soaking wet, seen it on his ship before, but he could not help taking a peek before the door closed behind him.

The sponge bath, although doing its job well enough, was hardly satisfying compared to a bath at home. The most satisfying bit was pulling her breeches over her bare ass, as she had no underclothes for such an occasion, and lying in bed with her shirt sloping downward to reveal her breasts. She sighed softly, enjoying the air cooling her still wet body. She loved men’s breeches.

///

It was the next morning when she arrived at the deck in her new outfit that the men took more notice of her. There were appreciative looks, some leering and others peeking at her from over their cups or side-eyeing her. She ignored them and instead settled next to James, who smiled beautifully at her, and seemed to physically brighten on seeing her.

“The bath was refreshing?” he asked, even as Gillette settled next to them, bumping shoulders into James as he sat down. Gillette cast an appreciative glance at her and nudged James once again. They glanced at each other, one with their eyebrow cocked and the other with a blushing tint to their face.

“You look fetching, Lizzy.” Gillette said, spooning a mouthful of porridge into his mouth.

She smirked at him. “Better than anything on this ship, at least.”

“Present company excluding, of course.” Gillette responded, winking at James. “James always looks rather dashing in his uniform.” He waggled his eyebrows.

The Commodore placed his bowl down rather louder than he intended and scowled at his friend. “I think we should run drills together today, Lieutenant.” James smoothly replied. If there was anything known about Gillette, it was that he was a coward when it came to a fight. Of course, every day the officers took part in drills.

“As long as the lady watches,” was the swift reply. He seemed nonchalant at the vague threat of his misbehavior and took perverse pleasure in teasing Elizabeth on her attire throughout the meal. “Where did one acquire the uniform?”

Elizabeth leaned against James, her hand brushing his hand that was clenched in a fist. Everyone on board seemed to be watching her, taking a long look at her before getting a fleeting glance at their Commodore’s face before returning their gaze on her. Most of these men were in their prime and a pretty lady among them were usually used for other purposes than being a companion to their superior. “My dress was getting rather uncomfortable.”

“You could have just remained in your shift at this point,” Gillette pointed out. “It’s not like we’ve never seen you drenched in one.”

James jaw flexed and his eyes turned icy. “Gillette.”

“I am sure the Commodore would love a peek at those perky breasts if given an opportunity.” The Lieutenant smirked at her, enjoying riling James up.

James threw down his spoon and rose, his tall figure hovering over his friend. “If we were not on such amiable terms, I would knock some sense into you. I don’t want to hear you talk to her in such a manner.”

Gillette leaned backwards, crossing his legs nonchalantly and gazing up at the Commodore with a critical look. He glanced at her from the corner of eye and winked. “I am not suggesting anything, James.” He said soothingly. “I am merely stating the obvious that all of these men would like to take a look at such a woman. You’ve found yourself a fine woman and all of us are envious of your good fortune that she stowed away.”

James sat back down with a huff, pushing away his empty porridge bowl. Elizabeth reached over and grabbed his hand, squeezing it and leaning toward him with a larger than usual smile. The tension was thick in the air. “Gillette is just teasing.”

“I am aware,” he groused. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t do drills _with me_ today.” This time, James smirked as Gillette eyed him from the corner of his eye.

The men had settled down for breakfast and after the ninety minutes were up, things were set aside to allow room for men to do drills. For the first time, Elizabeth felt free enough to watch. Usually she would have escaped into the cabin, but after being kept inside for a week she was enjoying the freedom. Men after men practiced, swords drawn and feet scuttling. Most had some form of efficiency and she wondered at her own abilities since Will had taught her to wield a sword. How would she hold up against the Royal Navy? Some of the men were as young as fourteen and she imagined herself facing them. She missed the footwork, the sweat and hard work. The feeling of the hilt in her hand and a scabbard against her side. She missed Will. She missed the escaped moments of practicing with each other, the rough hands as he tended to her wounds, and missed his quiet peacefulness.

But…she also enjoyed the intense gaze thrown her way as she walked aboard. Enjoyed the tantalizing power as men glanced at her in appreciation or the god-like worship when she asked for something, it was granted. She was spoiled. She enjoyed the hands of a sailor too, rough from sword fights and knots. But they were steady and sure of themselves while Will had always been so shy and unsure.

They were so different from each other. It was hard to draw comparisons.

But there was absolutely nothing like watching James engage in a fight. His back straight, eyes narrowed with calculating and the smooth, cutting grace that he exhibited. He was a proficient dancer and sword fighting was a dance form itself. She watched as Gillette and James circled each other, Gillette continuously on the defense as James rained down a series of blows. A slash against the bicep of Gillette drew a muttered oath that she could barely hear but caused the other sailors to laugh uproariously.

This was being used as a punishment.

James barely allowed him a break to begin the onslaught again, barring down on him with a series of jabs and thrusts as Gillette walked further and further away. Pressured to keep moving from the brute strength coming from his opponent.

They did not even circle each other like the other people doing drills now. At first they circled, but not now as it was merely James raining blow and blow until Gillette was cornered. James was magnificent. Covered in sweat, chest expanding at each sharp inhale, and eyes glinting with amusement. He was beautiful. A hero in Greek Mythology with an inhuman amount of strength and virility. Muscles expanding and throbbing with exercise and his mouth curving in his self-satisfied smirk.

The Royal Navy were physical in nature, drills could be a form of punishment and she had no doubt that James was punishing Gillette in the best way he could. Publicly. Gillette had been getting on their nerves for days at all of his insinuations and James was already becoming wound up tighter and tighter.

She needed a fan. She was feeling flushed from watching his form. When she moved a little closer to gain a better look at his sweaty chest, he glanced at her.

Gillette struck with force and a thin slice of blood appeared at the sleeve of his shirtsleeves. James swore. And then tilted his head up and laughed. This signaled the end of the drill, as James had already proven his point and Gillette had made his.

“I told you she’d distract you.” Gillette muttered, grasping hands with his Commodore and bumping shoulders in comradery. James glanced at her, even as she overheard them.

“I’d rather be damned by a woman than cut to pieces by pirates. You need more practice, Lieutenant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite sure about this chapter. I write in one sitting and this one didn't flow as nicely as the others. I think the next chapter will be better as I have more planned for it.
> 
> 1720 Port Royal did hang 41 pirates  
> Sailors do bath in the rain  
> Women were aboard on some excursions, mainly non violent ones and they were usually older women that were nurses etc., had a role as well. They were usually married to someone on board.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some heavy petting and touching  
> Not quite sex yet but getting there vaginal fingering

Word Count: 4166

Chapter 7

Gillette was a scoundrel. He accepted this without remorse. He was known for his pilfering and seductions of various wives of Port Royal. He was uncouth, coarse, and a sailor through and through. The thing about James that Gillette never understood is that they were cut from the same cloth essentially, but underneath all the buttons and uniform James was essentially a good man. A man willing to go to the ends of the earth for his lass and even put his crew in dire situations in order to satisfy some type of need to prove himself to his beloved.

The little drill they had was a perfect example of his thirst to prove himself to his little lady bird. But if there was anything that Gillette knew about love was that it caused distractions and in accordance to this, he made it his personal endeavor to keep James distracted as much as possible.

He knew that they would fuck. It was an eventuality than an if. It was when they would and nothing else other than those firm buttons were buttoned a little too tight and his cravat was tied a little too close to the skin. He had no doubt that little miss thing could easily be persuaded to ignore propriety and get buggered thoroughly.

James was the issue. He was high and mighty and deserved to be taken down a peg. If that meant that his bride-to-be stowed away and slept in his quarters could be used against James in the endeavor to tussle James’s sense of duty and pride. So be it.

Gillette’s plan was simple. Get them alone as much as possible and animals eventually did the naughty. Instincts drove men mad and he knew how tightly coiled James’s control could be. He knew that the more and more he resisted his little woman’s fanny that more likely that James would lose control over his own body and emotions.

James was a man. A man given an opportunity of sailing the seven seas with the “love” of his life and was not buggering her each night, an impossibility and a right shame. James deserved to be balls deep inside her tight passage and deserved the well earned release of finally claiming what was rightfully his and what was nearly stolen from him.

This caused some deep concentration from Gillette and having discussed with several of the other officers, it was only natural that a bet started to circulate. Gambling was something that was a favorite pastime of sailors and the juiciness of when their Commodore was finally going to get his dessert was a hot topic among them. It ranged from a week to the very end of their voyage. Some already lost and it was Gillette’s duty to collect and spread out the winnings. Already some had lost and yet, he had bet that it would be a little more time before they buggered because of James’s sensibilities. He was guessing a month and now that it was nearing nearly two weeks, sweat started to pool down his back at the thought of all the lost money that losing would entail.

And so, Gillette started scheming.

“I think Lieutenant Groves and I can handle watches from now on.” Gillette said, leaning against James as he was apt to do.

A dark, furrowed eyebrow curved upwards in disbelief. “I know you can handle it. It is something I take pleasure in,” was the response.

Sighing heavily and dramatically, Gillette swung an arm around James’s shoulders. “I think it would be better if you kept a watch on your little bird than do a duty that isn’t even required of you in the first place.”

“Elizabeth has been well occupied.”

“It isn’t that she isn’t occupied, it’s that you can occupy her in other means.” At this, Gillette waggled his eyebrows suggestively, ignoring the faint blush that crept to his friend’s face. “Shouldn’t you be more focused on laying a solid foundation that she would not turn coat as soon as the pirates came into our field of view?”

James threw the arm wrapped around him away and huffed. “I have no doubt in her sincerity that she won’t join them.”

“I am just saying that if you spend more time with her, you’ll get the responses and actions that you want.” Gillette’s mahogany eyes squinted in the distance as if he was contemplating. “It wouldn’t hurt to spend less time with the crew and more time with her. She has to be lonely. Better you than another poor sod. We have the man power and the commanders to do this mission without you. You are just over eager to continue your legacy, _Scourge of Piracy_ commander that you are.”

“It warms my heart that I am not needed.” The Commodore said drolly, hands poised behind his back in thought. “It would behoove me to have a little more privacy with her.”

“A little more privacy, a couple more kisses, maybe some touches. Sneak as much as you can before we arrive back to Port Royal and she is under her father’s protection.”

“Elizabeth firmly believes we will marry as soon as possible once we arrive home.”

Gillette shrugged. “It makes no difference. You are given a golden opportunity to spend time with your betrothed unchaperoned. I would take advantage of it.”

“I know you would take advantage of it, Gillette. Miss Baart was an excellent example of you taking advantage of a situation.”

“Her virtue was still intact. That is why Misses are harder to please than Mrs. or Ladies, no virtue scandal.”

“Just a husband scandal.”

“With you as my second, I can manage the husbands.” Gillette smirked. “I only wish you would have followed my advice before you proposed. You had that one affair with Lady Tamblin when you were a Post-Captain and that seemed to have pleased you well enough.”

“That is hardly the same. Lady Tamblin was widowed and it was purely carnal.”

“It just proves something to me,” Gillette said haltingly, grasping James on the shoulder. “You are a man with a man’s needs. Why not take advantage of her presence on board? I don’t mean to ruin her, but a few stolen moments would not go amiss. I am sure she would appreciate them more than anything. She seems rather lonely. Lieutenant Groves and I can manage keeping the worst of the gossip away while you enjoy her company.”

James’s eyebrow was still cocked in doubt, but he merely frowned in thoughtful contemplation.

///

After having her second sponge bath and settling atop the covers in her shirtsleeves and breeches, Elizabeth was surprised to hear a knock at the door. Quickly pulling the scarlet jacket over her white shirt, which was slightly see through because of the wetness of her skin, she opened the door ajar to peek outside. Surprised to see James at his watch hour with hat in hand and obviously impatiently standing there, his smile was winsome and curved across his thin lips pleasantly.

“Oh, I was not expecting you.” She said, instinctively standing aside to allow him entrance. His eyes glanced briefly to the v-line of her neckline, where droplets of water still scurried their way down her breasts. His gaze quickly took in the tub, the sponge and bucket of water. A hint of a blush settled his features but he settled across the desk. His eyes crinkled in a larger smile.

“I was wondering if you would mind some company.”

“Of course,” she said and sat opposite of him. She started methodically braiding her hair and he watched her in silence. “I thought the second watch was yours.” Elizabeth stated, her chin lifted slightly and eyebrow curved in thought.

“Lieutenant Groves has taken second watch for me.”

“Is there a reason why?” She asked, swiping her braided hair to her back. She knew that when she woke the next morning her hair would be full of curls and fluffy from being stuffed into the braid. She adored the look of her tresses running down her back and she kept her hair mostly down in the presence of the men. They hardly cared if her hair was up and so in her mind, why should she?

James cleared his throat, twiddling with the globe of the world on his desk and spinning it. “They have decided that it would be more advantageous for me to spend time with you than on watch where I am not needed.” He frowned and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh,” she said simply. A hint of a grin curved her mouth, pleased to have the company and eager for some attention. “I am pleased you are here.”

This caused him to stare at her, his mouth slightly opened in thought. His eyes were always intense. Yet they were especially thoughtful or fierce in this moment. “They said you were lonely and I was neglecting you.”

“I hardly feel neglected,” but it would have been a lie if she said she wasn’t lonely. She wanted attention and adventure, remaining stuck in her cabin was hardly an adventure in her mind. She had managed to sneak around when Groves was around, but if Gillette or James were present she was immediately accosted.

James sighed heavily and grasped her hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. “I am sorry you’re feeling lonely.”

“It’s not so much as loneliness as it is that I am still having nightmares from my capture. They aren’t often anymore, but they are still disturbing.” She would still dream of skeleton hands reaching out and grasping her skin, pulling, tearing, and reaching for her. The laughter and sneers that crossed their ugly faces.

“I should have paid more attention to you.” He said worriedly.

“It is hardly your fault that I have nightmares, James.” Elizabeth responded, scooting her chair closer so that she could grasp his hand in hers. “There is nothing you can do.”

“I could spend more time with you.”

“Yes, and by your mere presence you will singlehandedly drive away my nightmares.” She teased. “They do not occur that often anymore. I have not woken up the crew or anything, they are merely disturbing.” His hand squeezed hers. “I am sure that they are nothing compared to your dreams.” She observed.

“I rarely dream.”

“And when you do?”

He grinned. “They are hardly proper for a lady’s ears.”

“I imagine some of the battles you’ve seen have been ghastly.” She sipped daintily at her cup of brandy, a luxury afforded to the Captain and something that James dearly missed. Instead of pouring himself a glass, he reached for hers and took a gulp, enjoying the burn that rolled down his throat.

“I don’t dream of battles.” He said, eyes twinkling above their brandy.

She reached for it and took another drink, a larger one than before and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “What do you dream of?” She insisted.

“Lots of things.”

Sighing softly and deciding to be rather bold, she moved around the desk and perched herself on his lap. His face was soft up close, something that had loosened in her presence. She wrapped an arm around his neck and watched as he took another swig of the brandy, emptying it. “Allow me,” she said and set off to refill their glass before coming back to his lap. This time he wrapped an arm around her waist even as he took the glass from her, taking a quick sip and leaning her body against him so that her head rested on his shoulder.

“I dream of the sea.” He said haltingly, brushing a hand down her back.

In response, she unpinned his wig and set it aside. She brushed her fingers through his dark hair, mussing it from the tie at its back. He stared with his lips moist with alcohol. “What kind of dreams.”

“Sometimes I dream of drowning.” He admitted, grasping her legs and throwing them across his lap so she was settled across him instead of being settled on his thigh. They were face-to-face. She smiled and grasped the glass in hand, taking another one of her dainty sips. “Does your father allow you nightcaps?”

“No.” She smirked, shirking off her jacket and allowing it to fall to the floor. Her skin was dryer and yet the neckline swooped downwards to reveal the tops of her breasts. From his advantage point, he could even see the curve of her breasts and the duskiness of her nipples. They were small compared to some and _absolutely_ perfect in his eyes.

His cock twitched.

“What else do you dream of, James? I hardly think you only dream of drowning.” She squirmed slightly, settling into his lap and wrapping both arms around his neck. They were so close.

He brushed his lips against her cheek.

“I dream of this.” He said simply, brushing a kiss to her cheek, underneath her ear, and then with a hint of teeth gave a soft bite to her neck. Her skin broke out in goosebumps. She smiled and pushed him away slightly, only to turn and drink a little more of the brandy. His eyes were watching her carefully, a hand curled into a fist on the desk and the other splayed across her lower back.

_How far can I push him?_ She thought to herself, always enjoying the challenge. Elizabeth smiled cheekily, leaning forward to brush the tips of their noses together. His eyes lowered, leaning forward for a kiss.

She ignored it.

“What do you dream of _exactly_ , Commodore?” she asked, plucking at the waistband of his breeches with nimble fingers. She shifted herself on his lap, feeling the tightening of her stomach in pleasure.

“I dream of kissing you.” He murmured in her ear, brushing his lips against her neck.

“Is that all?”

He smirked, brushing his hands down her sides until they grasped her hips. He thought about rolling his hips against her buttocks, let her know exactly what she did to him and his control. “I dream of your quim.” He practically purred, brushing a hand against the long braid coiled at the back of her head.

She brushed her lips against the corners of his mouth, a soft noise of pleasure escaping her. “Do you dream of touching my quim?” She whispered, grasping his hands and guiding them between her legs.

“Touching it, yes.” He escaped her clutch, instead his hand slipped underneath her shirt and explored the smooth planes of her stomach, feeling the soft curves of her figure.

“Anything else, James.” She nuzzled him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Do you dream of how wet you make me?” Their lips met, his tongue already pushing through the seam of her lips and tasting her.

“I dream of how wet you’ll feel.” He muttered between kisses, moving one hand against the back of her neck to tilt her downwards to meet his kisses. In his lap, she was slightly taller than him and she seemed to enjoy gazing down at him. Their foreheads touched lightly, her lips parted in arousal and his hands roaming in her shirt. They skirted upwards, cupping her breasts and rubbing the nipple until it pebbled. She moaned, swinging a leg around his so that she was now straddling him. He pulled the shirt up and off, staring at her bare skin with glistening eyes and moistened lips. He pressed his mouth against one hard nipple, sucking softly as one of his hands plucked at the other, caressing softly. She shifted her hips, grinding instinctively against him.

“Do you dream of me like this often?” she said, tilting her head backwards to reveal her slim neck and allowing his mouth to move from one nipple to the other. His hand switched sides, rubbing. The tension in her belly tightened and she gasped out in pleasure.

“No,” he said and immediately some disappointment passed through her body. He smiled against her nipple, giving it a nice swirling lick. He used his teeth gently against her, hearing her softly curse. “I _imagine_ this every night.”

Her hands scurried against his chest, stroking the taut muscles. She smirked, but she was blushing. “Do you imagine _fucking_ me?”

“ _Yes.”_ For a moment, he seemed to pause as if considering.

“I imagine getting fucked. Sometimes I touch myself until I make myself _feel._ ” Elizabeth whispered, setting upright and undoing the tie of her braid. Her hair unfurled quickly as his hands spread through her stresses, shifting her on his lap so she was bent at an angle.

“Would you allow me to touch you?”

For a moment they stared at each other, him shyly roving his hands up and down her back, itching to explore passed the band of her tan britches. “I’m not wearing anything underneath this.” She whispered, almost shyly but eager.

“I won’t expect anything in return.” He said, reaching for the buttons of her trousers. When his hand curled between her legs, her curls were moist from her sponge bath and he pressed a finger into her slick entrance. She stretched upwards, trying to give him a better advantage point. He curled his one finger, exploring the smooth and velvet softness.

“Your fingers are quite thicker than mine.” Pleased at hearing this, he rubbed her clit with his thumb. She shuddered in pleasure, shifting her hips to press against his hand.

“Kiss me,” he demanded, using the other hand that had been grasping her hip to clutch at her jaw and force herself to turn to him. Their lips met, her gasping softly as they kissed and he added another digit. She was tight, throbbing, and obviously wet. He curled his fingers expertly and she moaned against his mouth. He used his tongue to explore her, tasting the brandy.

“James, take off your coat.” She murmured against him, suddenly grasping at his shoulders and pushing the heavy fabric off. He pulled away slightly from her, shucking it off completely. Her hands explored his chest hair underneath his shirt, the muscles that bunched and flexed as he grabbed at her hips, lifting her closer to his throbbing cock.

He rubbed her up and down, the friction of the fabric teasing him. They kissed once again, this time with an urgency and hands roaming, tugging at each other’s hair and plucking at his waistband. “I want to please you,” he said.

“You’ll please me,” she whispered back in a husky voice. “Let’s go to the bed and you can please me.”

He stilled for a moment, gazing into her eyes. “I won’t fuck you.” He said simply.

Nearly rolling her eyes, she shifted her hips to press against his cock. “I know, but I want to feel your fingers in me. I want you to make me feel something.”

She stood from his lap, swinging her legs and tugging at his hands to encourage him to follow her. He felt like in a stupor, watching as she lifted her hands above her in a stretch and then the breeches swiftly being tugged off. Her bare ass was pert, small, and perfectly rounded.

His hands fluttered towards his cock, wondering at the kind of torture she was inflicting on him. She glanced behind her, smile coy as she laid down on top of the bed and spread her legs out. Her sex gleamed at him, the dark curls that nestled above her clit glistening with moisture either from the bath or from his administrations. He could never resist her.

He settled between her legs, raising one to rest on his shoulder. It was odd, being fully clothed while she lay completely bare to him. She was smiling though. “It’s all right,” she murmured, brushing some strands of hair that fell in his face. “We don’t have to go through with it completely. I just want to be touched.” Her hair splayed out before her, eyes sparkling with want, and lips parted in pleasure she looked like a goddess.

Pressing two fingers inside of her, feeling her pussy tighten around his fingers, flexing, he smiled in satisfaction. He curled them, pressed deeper and deeper until she mewled. He used his thumb to caress her clit, brushing it softly and teasing it. “It’s so sensitive.” She whispered. “You are good at this. Much better than when I am doing it by myself.”

He huffed slightly, almost a laugh. “Practice, I am sure.”

“It feels different when you do it by yourself.” She murmured, lying back and rolling her hips against his hand. He rolled pressed her button, watching as her thighs started shaking with tension. He massaged her, pushing his fingers in and out of her and watching her face frown in concentration. She was beautiful.

He added a third finger and felt her pussy squeeze tightly against him. “James!” she shouted, bringing her knees together and her stomach tensed. He could barely curl them, its clench so strained against his fingers. She moaned loudly. He pressed further in, feeling her tighten involuntarily against him. He rubbed her clit harder and harder, swirling and wondering how she tasted. She cried out, louder this time. Her eyes squeezed shut and she seemed to curl away from him, bringing her knees up to her chest and panting. Her muscles clenched around his fingers, unclenching and squeezing involuntarily. When they settled down briefly he immediately stopped, pulling his fingers away and she huffed at him.

“You need to be quiet,” he insisted. “Someone is going to hear us.”

An eyebrow curved. “Is that a challenge, Commodore?” She purred, rubbing the soft skin of her leg against his cheek. She was flushed, spreading down to her breasts.

“No, it’s a warning.”

She reached for him and he batted her hands away. “I don’t need anything.”

“I want to though. I want to touch you.” She insisted, hands plucking at his waistband to push a hand in and grab a handful of his hard dick.

“You don’t need to return the favor. I would rather you not.” James grasped her wrist, pulling it away from his throbbing member. Understanding that he was being rather stubborn, she sighed and pulled away.

“Then stay with me for a little while.” She murmured, crawling up and into the covers, yanking them to her chin and her smile was full. She was sweaty, tendrils curls on her forehead and the room reeked of her scent and smell. The smell was heady and it was tempting to just fuck her.

But he needed to wait. He could not imagine the governor’s reaction to his daughter being spoiled on his ship. The other part of him reasoned about the many other couples that anticipated their vows and his cock throbbed with agreement. He sighed.

“All right,” he said and settled next to her, atop the covers. He stared at her, even as she turned to face him and smiled in his direction.

“I know that was nothing for you, but it was rather lovely.” She said, caressing his face with a thin, delicate hand.

He grasped it in his own and pressed a kiss to her palm. “It was everything to me, darling. You can have satisfaction by pleasing the other.”

“I don’t think I am nearly as selfless as you,” she giggled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I don’t think I would be as pleased as you if I did not finish.” She smiled and the languidly movements of her was enough to make him feel smug. “It would not be too awful if we had sex.”

He chuckled. “No, it would not be _too_ awful. It probably would feel very good despite the first time hurting you. I want to wait. I want to have the perfect wedding night with you and being able to make all sorts of noises without fear of someone listening in.”

She sighed softly and cuddled into his chest. “James, I don’t care about any of that.” She yawned. “I just want to feel good sometimes and I have heard that the marriage bed is not as pleasant for women as for men.”

“It can be pleasant for women.” He responded, pulling her closer to him and kissing the crown of her head.

“If you continue like that, I am sure it will be very pleasant.” She murmured sleepily. “I imagine sex with you will be a grand affair, James.”

He watched her as she slept, laying atop the covers and waiting until his cock wilted. She snored softly, but she had an edge of a smile on her lips and she appeared content. He wondered if she would regret this in the morning, as he felt a small bit of self-hatred for giving into base instincts and wants. He should have waited. He would wait.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 

Elizabeth was shocked at the type of feelings that James could ignite in her. They were foreign and not unwelcome. They were different and exhilarating but frightening. Watching him sleep next to her, which was considerably endearing, with his mouth slightly agape and the soft breathing from his nose, was a revelation. She knew he did not want to cause a stir for spending too much alone time with her. She thought that being her betrothed it afforded them quite a bit of alone time.

He would have said otherwise. As it gave them an importance to maintain propriety between the two of them. But sleeping next to her was hardly considered proper even though she was as naked as the day she was born and he was fully clothed. He seemed to be in a rather fantastical dream, as he shifted closer and closer to her, burying his nose in her hair and wrapping a strong arm around her thin waist. He breathed in and even smiled in his sleep, which was especially charming.

The sound of the waves and the men in the background was a reminder that they were not alone and if he stayed in his spot, eventually people would suspect. She was rather loud and she was not ignorant of the fact that there were bets going around of when they would eventually have sex, which she was more than willing and even eager to experience. James was just too buttoned up to stick his cock where it needed to be, quite literally.

She sighed softly as shifted in his arms, watching the fluttering eyelashes and little breaths he took. He was rather handsome, in a very traditional way. Not at all like the soft tan of Will and the goatee. Instead James was clean shaven and had a Roman nose, straight and rather large. He had a sculpted chin and dark, furrowed eyebrows. He was handsome. A respectable, fine man that any woman would be lucky to marry. He was decent and hardworking, a little too laced up. But he was gentle and commanding, a give-and-take relationship that she would have never experienced with Will. It was not fair to either of them to compare the two, being so different from each other. But the longer she spent on the boat, the less she thought of Will’s passionate declaration of love and the more she thought of the heated kisses that James bestowed. James always made her a priority in attention, as soon as she moved he was by her side and asking if she needed anything. Even when she was a debutant, he was always next to her side, offering dances or walks in the garden, punch, and conversation.

Conversation was easily the one thing he lacked. There was always a bashfulness and unassured demeanor that he possessed that made it hard to maintain conversation. But when he was on the Dauntless, his façade was neatly in place and he became a different man. Which made her wonder, what was actually the façade? The gentlemen or the sailor? She understood that people had layers, but it seemed that the gentlemen was cultivated and the sailor was true to himself.

That was what she wished for. A relationship without the masks and hiding your face behind your fan, a relationship without the iciness of social expectations. She wanted the sailor. She had never met this man. Didn’t even realize that he could sit beside his subordinates even though most captains ate in their quarters and joke along with them. Laugh. He was involved, praised, and would no doubt become an admiral before the age of forty. It was a smart match. But was it really selfish of her to want something more than a smart match? It seemed he had started out with some type of regard for her despite referring to her as an achievement and a fine woman. The short time spent on the boat was enough to assure her of some level of attraction he felt and which she felt was slightly mutual because _he_ was handsome.

She sighed softly and stirred, gently caressing his face. He had been asleep for a couple hours. He was used to waking up every couple hours and she wondered whether he kept the same schedule on land, whether it was hard for him to remain asleep. She wanted to spend the entire day in bed one day, a picturesque wedding day where they scarcely left the bed only to dine and even then they would tease and flirt until they made their way back to the bedroom. She wanted that type of passion. Where they could barely keep their hands off of each other and there was little space between them. She wanted a soulmate and there was still a lingering doubt that he could be _everything_ to her.

But he would be _something_ and that something was tantalizing.

She was curious.

She desperately wanted to be loved. She wasn’t sure if James _truly_ loved her.

“James,” she whispered, shaking him slightly. The covers were drawn close to her chest. He huffed briefly and turned to his back. His arms stretched above his head and his shirt rode up. Because it was so long it did not reveal anything but she was inquisitive. She grasped the shirt and lifted it up, taking a peek at the bare chest of her betrothed. He had hair on his chest. Obviously a man. There was a thick patch of hair below his naval and it made her mouth water slightly at the thought what lay below it. She wanted to touch it. Her fingertips were light and soft as she caressed the outline of his cock. It twitched in attention. He groaned. She kept stroking, taking a firmer grasp as she pumped him.

He moaned, loudly. Eyes fluttering open. Immediately her hands scurried away as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. He blinked in confusion, shifting to his side and gazing down at her. For a moment he stared, surprised and a little dazed.

“Good morning, darling.” He murmured, closing his eyes and shifting back to his back.

“No,” she laughed softly and nudged him. “You need to go back to your own bed.”

“This is my bed.” He said stubbornly, grabbing the opposite edge of the covers and pulling them atop himself. Now his back was facing her and the soft snoring continued only moments later.

She nudged him again. “James,” she said loudly and he made a disgruntled grumble. “James, I must insist that you leave. Not unless you want your men to gossip about you plucking my maidenhood.”

There was a mutter and then in a split second he was up, staring at her with wide eyes. “Is it morning?”

“No, James. It has only been a couple hours. I only wanted to warn you before Lieutenant Gillette’s watch started. A nice, easy escape so no one realized you slept with me.”

He grasped his chest in relief, then gave a wry smile in her direction. He moved across the bed to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “I am sorry. I don’t want to make it seem like I don’t want to be here. I want to be here more than anything but it’s not quite the right timing.”

“Of course,” she replied dryly. “When will be the right timing?”

He shrugged, throwing a leg across her and to the floor. He quickly pulled himself up and he moved about as if he had never been sleeping. He placed his wig on his head, pinning it with expert hands. The commodore coat was strewn across his shoulders and he quickly clasped each button with nimble fingers. The Commodore was in place. But he had a soft, satisfied smiling etched across his face and he leaned close to her to press his chest against hers. He breathed in her face, not kissing her but gazing at her with his deep, sea-green eyes. He was happy, she could tell. Despite not receiving the satisfaction that she felt between her legs and in her belly.

A hand brushed a strand of hair from her face and he leaned close to press a tender kiss on her forehead. There was a new type of softness and lightness to his touch, a sweetness that she had never experienced from him before.

“You are beautiful, Elizabeth.” He murmured in her hair. He straightened, tugging at his sleeves and the bottom of uniform. He smiled, eyes crinkling.

She stayed in bed for a long time. Contemplating green eyes and soft touches, wondering.

///

Elizabeth and James continued meeting at night. They didn’t get as far as they had previously, James content with being straddled and explored. There were intense or sometimes sweet kisses. Their hands roamed and they scurried to bare skin, but there was no fingering her or toeing the line of intercourse. Sometimes she snuck a hand to his cock and gently stroked it, wild to see the darkening of his eyes and the clench of his jaw. He always grasped her hand and brushed it away, a soft click of his tongue in discouragement.

She was unspeakably frustrated and did not care for his sense of duty and obligation. He seemed encouraged and amused by her insistence. But she was content with the budding relationship between the two. He did not sleep beside her again until nearly a week later. It was Gillette surprisingly enough that kept encouraging James on the side and digging into Elizabeth with jabs or saucy endearments.

“I am rather frustrated at the two of you.” Gillette stated, swaggering towards her and an arm curling into hers. She tried shrugging him off but he kept a firm yet gentle grip. He was hardly a brute. A scoundrel, perhaps. But not a brute.

“Why is that, Lieutenant?” She said, eyebrows raising in a rather mocking way.

“Because I doubt this is at all because of your own sensibilities and entirely the Commodore’s sense of honor. But I am about to lose a bet and that is the worst thing you could do to our friendship?” Gillette smile did not reach his eyes and it was rather mocking.

This time a slow, sinister smile curved around her lips. Reminiscent of when she had nearly dropped the necklace in the ocean and she saw the pirates’ reaction of being damned. There was a soft “oh” of understanding. “The bet of when James and I will -” she paused as if searching for the right word, “Fuck.”

He grinned this time and relinquished her arm to through his own around her waist and tugged her closer. He smelled faintly of sweat and salt. The men had taken to taking sponge baths as rain had yet to bless them. “Indeed.” He said simply. “I think you can help me with this endeavor.”

“Perhaps,” a coy smile. “I could be persuaded to help you for a price.”

“You will get buggered. James has mentioned how eager you’ve been.” A smirk touched his disgusting face and she crossed her arms, looking away swiftly to control the urge to strike him. “I assume that would be a reward enough.”

“I would like half of your winnings.” She stated as her eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Half!” he sputtered. “A quarter.” He replied.

She tilted her head in thought, pursing her lips and she glanced at James to see him watching her with curious eyes. He was always watching her. His eyes moved as she moved. They darkened and lightened as it depended on whether their touches were a little more innocent or whether she had managed to grab a handful of his cock and squeeze it before he could usher her away. For the last few days he had been a little slower to urge her to stop and a little more likely to linger.

“I have one more week to complete the bet.” Gillette confided.

“A week can be a very long time to wait. Who knows, maybe we’ve already done it.”

There was a smirk in reply, directed at James. “I assure you that I will be the first to know when he finally manages to shag you.”

“I don’t appreciate my future husband to share such intimate details with his friends.” Elizabeth responded as James scurried over to them with swift, sure steps.

“Every man confides with their best mates.” He leaned closer and whispered. “Trust me, I would not care unless there was money involved.”

Her jaw jutted forward and an unconvincing smile burst forth as James hastened towards them.

“What are you two scheming?” He growled, eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed to further shadow them. He seemed broader and his steps surer. A superior in place and definitely not the bosom buddy that Gillette seemed so endeared.

Gillette straightened beside her, hands behind his back but the edge of a smile still crept to his face. “Ask Groves.” He replied simply.

“Elizabeth,” he took her elbow, leading her away. “What was that all about? I insist on knowing. I would hate for him to make you feel uncomfortable or feel pressured into one of his awful schemes.”

“He was merely mentioning some of the details of our relationship that he has been privy to.”

James blushed a dull brick color. His eyebrows rose in surprise and immediately the green of his eyes was evident. “I apologize for his behavior.” He said automatically, almost without thought.

“It’s not his behavior, it’s _yours_.”

“Pardon me?”

“I don’t find it unacceptable that you relate such intimate details about,” she gestured towards the both of them, “Us.”

There was a heavy sigh and he strolled next to her with his hands behind his back, twiddling his thumbs like he did when he was nervous. “I sincerely apologize, Elizabeth. It was done unintentionally.”

“It is already forgiven.”

“You have few friends in Port Royal and this is normal talk amongst men. It is not something I usually participate in but it is hard not to brag that such a remarkable woman has accepted me.” James turned and grasped her hands to his chest, bending down to press a tender kiss to her knuckles.

“Accepted you into my bed.” She added.

“We are not laying with each other. It is something I have purposefully not shared with them, nor will I when it does occur on our wedding night.”

“We do not need to wait.” Elizabeth stroked the hands clutching hers, using her thumbs to draw circles onto the back of his.

“ _I_ would like to wait. Hence my insistence on privacy because if we _do it_ whilst we are on my ship, there is no doubt that my men would know. I could not bear the looks we would endure.”

She leaned closer, their noses nearly brushing together. Their hands still intertwined. “I do not want to wait. You could take me now and I would not complain.”

There was a heavy sigh and he brushed a kiss sweetly against her cheek. A midshipmen huffed at them, almost as if laughing. Immediately James frowned darkly and the man turned and continued his work, whistling a jaunty tune. “I know.” He said simply, his eyes faraway.

Gillette was watching them carefully, noting the soft touches and the lingering kisses. They would fuck, he had no doubt. But he had merely a week or he would lose the bet. He would have to convince James that it was an excellent heading. Elizabeth hardly seemed to be the one to be insistent on keeping her virtue. If he realized that he was part of the problem, he would have just teased them more and suggested that they do it on the deck of the ship than in their quarters since either way everyone would know that they were buggering.

Even when they were married, there was no doubt what married people did behind closed doors. Either way, there was not much privacy. It was something of a manhood aspect of highlighting their conquests and ladies they’ve bedded. Gillette was sure that even if James would keep the truth to himself, he would reveal it in some way or another.

He imagined it would be a rather dopey expression that James wore that would reveal when they finally decided to copulate.

///

Elizabeth decided to take an afternoon nap, frustrated and a little discouraged about the friendship between James and Gillette. She had few friends in Port Royal and really no one to confide in such details. So perhaps she was a little jealous of the friendship he developed between his subordinates and himself. Most of the girls her age were competitors and not really ones to entice secrets or talk about such things. She had tried many times to become friends with the other debutants, but she was always rebuffed for her ill manners or for being the motherless child. She hated pity most of all and the girls that were pushed her way were encouraged more often than not that she was motherless and in need of a girlfriend. Now with Will sailing the seven seas, she found herself rather friendless with the exception of Estella. Estella was a maid and not a friend, but they were always crossing the line between propriety and the proper treatment of the help.

There were many sighs and huffs as she tossed and turned in her bed. Trying to think of herself as a man and wanting to relay all her conquests and achievements. She had little doubt that James viewed her in a way that she was achievement or an accomplishment. He may find her endearing and even love her in a way. She was after all a fine woman, as he had stated.

She refused to dine with them for dinner and instead took a rather luxurious meal in the captain’s quarters. An obvious attempt on James’s part to apologize by doing something for her rather than admit that he was wrong for discussing their relationship with Gillette. It might have stung less if it was someone else besides Gillette. She realized without a doubt that Groves probably knew and perhaps a handful of other men. They had been secretive. James always snuck away before Gillette stood watch and never seemed mussed nor a hair out of place. How could they tell unless he deliberately confessed to them that they were nearly anticipating their marriage?

The door was opened without a knock to announce his presence and he swiftly came to her side. He tossed his hat into the chair and sat at the corner of the bed, reaching for her hands but she scurried them underneath the covers before he could grasp them. He frowned immediately.

“I know you are cross with me, but you must understand my side.” James’s voice was grave as he started unbuttoning his coat. She watched silently, deciding to allow him to voice whatever he thought she was cross at him for if it meant that she would get what she wanted in the end. “I did not mean to intrude on our privacy. Our alone time is very precious to me and something that I do not wish to lose.”

“It is not even about intruding on our privacy. It’s the bet and your unwillingness to fuck me despite nearly half the sailors thinking you shag me every night.” She wrinkled her nose, scooting further down into the covers. “It had to be Gillette that you told?”

“Groves is aware of the nature of our relationship.” James suddenly unbuttoned his sleeves of his shirt, untucking it before tossing aside his boots.

“I do not care if Groves knows, he is not the one harassing me about my inability to _get_ more from you. I feel like I hardly please you when you try to thoroughly satisfy me.”

James smile curved and his eyes twinkled. “You are very pleasing to me.” He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. He was clad in his britches and stockings, his shirt hanging low. He crawled on top of her, pining her underneath his long body. They were both tall, but he was _exceptionally_ tall and upright. “I won’t have Gillette harassing you and the bet is harmless.”

“Are you participating in the bet?” Elizabeth asked, his face merely hovering over hers. They were entirely too close and he was heavy in a very arousing way.

“I am trying to show the men that betting will do them no good as it will be fairly pointless if we wait.” James took a curl and wrapped it around his finger, twirling it and smiling in his soft way. “None of them bet that we would wait until we are married.”

When they were alone like this, it seemed like it was only the two of them that existed. Perhaps that was why it stung so much that Gillette was aware that he fingered her, kissed her, and teased her until she was nearly trembling in need.

“We do not need to wait.” She pulled the covers just below her eyes, trying to hide the faint blush that painted her cheeks. This was the most relaxed he seemed since that day he had made her peak.

“No, we do not.” He responded in a voice deeper than usual. He seemed to be contemplative, running his fingers through her soft tresses. His eyes were brighter than usual in the candlelight, as dusk had already fallen and the room was dark.

“We can try other things than you take my maidenhead.” Elizabeth whispered, feeling intimate and oddly demure, wishing to be bolder and brave. This was very new to her, feeling wanton and yet he seemed oddly distant.

He smiled wryly, pressing a kiss to her head. “We could,” was the acknowledgement. He made no movement to further any contact between the two. Instead he pressed soft, tender kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, and chin. He grazed his teeth lightly against her neck and she gasped. “I want to wait though. Can you be patient, Elizabeth?” He murmured against her.

“I don’t want to wait. I want to feel you.” She took his hand in hers, pressing it to her breast until it curved around it in a soft hold. He squeezed. “James, I need you.”

He huffed and rolled beside her onto his back. “I know.”

They stayed like that for a long time, both of them silent and wondering. Their hands reaching for each other and the tips of their fingers brushing against one another.

“I won’t tell Gillette anymore about our relationship. I will just allow him to assume we are fucking.” He said in the dark.

“It’s all right, James. I think I understand. You have been friends for these eight years and I am sure that it is hard to keep secrets from each other.” Elizabeth brushed her hand against his cheek before moving upwards and brushing his soft hair.

“It’s not secrets. It’s more of the satisfaction that I have the most beautiful woman we know. They all were aware of the tender feelings that I carried for you for many years. They are jealous in a way. Gillette remains a bachelor, but there is some lingering want to have the type of relationship that we will have.” He sighed. “Groves is easier to talk to. He is newly married these six months and seems perfectly content to allow me to figure out our relationship. He does not give advice or place bets.” He heaved another sigh. “Gillette is complicated, but he is a good sort of man. I have no doubt that he would protect your honor or your safety. He would be the first to sacrifice himself to your protection or mine. He is my brother. I love him dearly, faults and all.”

“As you say, James. I am sure he is a good man to have earned your devotion.” She paused, her fingertips lingering against his jaw before cupping it and placing a quick kiss to it. “Will you sleep with me for a bit, James?” She murmured, as they had forgone this since that one night a week ago. He always left before he had fallen into slumber.

“For a little while, perhaps.”


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

The hard exterior seemed to have melted away when James slept. He seemed softer, younger, and a little unsure as he was swept into dreamland. He did not frown in his dreams but sighed softly and a smile sometimes curved around his straight lips. She could not resist staring at him when he slept and it became almost a habit for him to come to her now that he was no longer doing watches. Groves seemed little bothered by the change and seemed even encouraging to James that he took the time to truly get to know his betrothed. She had no doubt that they would be married as soon as they ported, knowing the eagerness of her father and the gossip that was no doubt circulating about them. She felt the first stirrings of love at the sight of him sleeping so contentedly next to her. She imagined herself married to such a man. She even could picture sailing with him again.

That was what her wish was and she hardly thought when she accepted his proposal that he could be such a man to fulfill her wishes to see the world. If she had gone through with her heart she would be planning a wedding to a blacksmith, an apprentice, a craftsmen and entirely too below her station in life. James was the obvious choice. If she had chosen Will, James would have still set sail and he would come back with a dead pirate and a hardened heart towards herself. Now, she could not bear the thought that he would no longer be in her life. He was not a tender man. There was a certain wildness and coarseness about him that was becoming and completely unexpected. There was also the man with a straight back and broad shoulders that was truly the _Scourge of Piracy_. It was like he embodied two different people and she wondered about his family. She wondered when they married, how would it be between the two of them? How he would behave and whether if they had children, how he would raise them? Would he be a strict father? Distant? Or would he be incandescently besotted and dote on them like her own father? She knew she was spoiled rotten by her father. The sun rose and fell with her presence in his life and she could not imagine even being married and keeping house that it would be any different between them. James, on the other hand, never spoke about his family. His mother was a distant but loving creature, his father a distant figure, and his siblings he had not seen for many years and gradually had lost touch with them.

“James,” she swiped at his brow to awaken him. He batted her hands away. Amazing that a man that awoke to each watch would not arise to her rustling him about. “James.” She insisted, nuzzling him lightly. He smiled and a flickering of his eyelid indicated that he left his dreams to be with her. He snored, which he hardly ever did.

She sighed softly and rolled nearly on top of him. A leg swung over his waist and she balanced herself on her elbows as she gazed down at him. “Commodore,” she commanded, tapping his strong nose with a delicate finger. “I am in need of your attention.”

His hands moved and rested on her hips, lips twitching. He opened his eyes to the lovely sight of his future wife bent above him, hair swinging down and nose wrinkling in impatience. His smile crinkled the edges of his eyes. He rolled his hips against her, hearing her breath hitch. “I can give you some attention,” he murmured.

“It’s not that!” She laughed, rolling to her side even as he cuddled her close. “I just wanted to talk.” She grasped his hand and tucked it underneath her chin. “I was thinking about what it will be like when we are married and was wondering what your thoughts gravitated towards. How polite do you think I’ll be? Will we go sailing together often?”

He sighed, shifting onto his back and wiping the sleep from his eyes. He seemed contemplative. “I had no thoughts what marriage would entail until you actually said yes. I was so sure of a refusal. Then you nearly drowned and was rescued by the scum of the earth.” He said bitterly.

“My acceptance was hardly what you wished for, either.” Elizabeth murmured, still holding tight to his hand and back facing him. She ignored the slight against Jack, who was truly underneath it all a good man. She was slightly ashamed of herself for using his good opinion of herself to further her own agenda. Yet, there was part of herself that did not regret it. Especially now that she was free to wander the decks and meander around. She enjoyed talking to the crew and hearing glowing reports of her betrothed. It appeared the more she asked, the more they were willing to share. It seemed he had rescued nearly every man on this ship in one way or another. They boasted of him to her like he was some sort of sea god.

“I was so sure of your refusal.” He whispered, shifting her so that she lay across his chest. “I dared not dream on whether you said yes.”

“You must have some thoughts on what married life would be like?”

“I am surrounded by men whose first love is the sea and second is rum. I hardly knew what to expect and I was sure that I did not want the marriage of my own parents.” He kissed her forehead lightly. “I always imagined that I would have the type of love your father felt for your mother. I never had the opportunity to meet her, but from the devotion your father feels and the memories he has shared…that was what I was hoping for.”

“I hardly remember her,” she admitted. “I remember a very sickly mother.”

“It must have been extremely hard on your father.”

She giggled slightly, despite the seriousness of the topic. But that was just her way, side-swiping the seriousness away so that she was not overcome in sadness. “I imagine having me for a daughter hardly helped.”

“I imagine not,” was the dry comment. “You were always worrying him and causing me to come chasing after you.” He sighed heavily. “I was always summoned because you had gotten into some scrap or had hidden away.” Usually she was at the ocean, burying her toes in the sand, and singing to the wind.

A smile crept on her face and she nuzzled him lightly. She was feeling extra giddy. “You always found me one way or another.”

“I believe you allowed me to find you, more often than naught.”

“I remember you found me in a tree over where the island is a little wilder and you nearly had a fit.” She fondly caressed his face, already wrinkling in concentration.

A light smile suddenly escaped him at the memory. “I had a fit because you fell and broke your arm. Coming back to your home with you trying valiantly not to cry in my arms and the shocked expression of your father was hardly the experience that tenured officers were prepared for. I sometimes felt more of a babysitter than a member of the Royal Navy.”

“I had never received a scolding from you until then. You always allowed me a couple more minutes of freedom except for then. I also got to ride your horse every time and father expressly forbid me to ride a horse. I was surprised you did not insist that I was to be punished considering the trouble I caused you that day.” She remembered bleeding on his uniform and despite her hard-won effort not to cry, he had ignored her shaking shoulders and that she buried her head in his shoulder. She was nearly fourteen, approaching her debutant, and had escaped her governess. He was solid and she had a rather girlish infatuation with uniforms. Not the wig. The wig was ghastly. Being held in his arms was something that she had never experienced as it was the first time a man had held her close to their chest. She had tried with Will half a dozen times to be hugged and remembered rather forcing the intimacy when she was young. As she grew older, propriety had its place between the two of them. It was completely different being held by a man than a boy.

“It was hardly my place.” He huffed, smiling into the crown of her head. “I was fond of you and I could not bear the petulant expression you wore each time you were sent to your room. You were rather old to be climbing trees at that point and I was rather shocked at your daring.”

“You spooked me and that is why I fell." She said, sitting up slightly before she added. "I was hardly punished as a child.”

“I remember. I felt like a brute. It was something I conveniently left out in my report to your father. I do believe your father raised you to the best of his ability. Punishing you would hardly have taught you anything. It never taught me anything except to hate the rules.”

“You said I had already fallen when you found me.” She responded, smiling slightly. “I was never punished too severely. One governess had rapped my knuckles and father had promptly sent her on her way.” She snickered. “I was a troublesome child and I could hardly blame her.” She paused for a moment, as if remembering. “The governess I had escaped from that day was because we were practicing my posture. She was truly the best governess I had and probably had pushed me into being a lady more so than any of the others.”

“She was Miss Jenkins. I believed that she was hired until your debutant.”

“I cried when she left. I had few friends and she understood me unlike any of the others. She always allowed me to get away with things when they didn’t matter and insisted when they did.”

“I don’t remember very much from when you were growing up.” He sighed heavily. “It was almost as if you were a child and the next moment you were a woman. I only reminiscent on the times that I had to save you from peril, as your father seemed to believe.”

“Children are rarely seen.” She murmured softly, remembering the ache of loneliness that still captured her heart. Elizabeth enjoyed James’s company because he always treated her with respect and dignity. Perhaps that was why she was so drawn to Will, someone her own age and there was such easiness between the two of them before her debut. Then she was forever Miss Swann until the day of Jack’s hanging. “You were gone to sea a lot of the time I was growing up.”

“Yes,” a wry smile crept to James’s face. “I was trying for a promotion.”

“Are you content where you are now?” She murmured, laying a hand on his chest and settling her head down on one of his breasts.

“I want to be an admiral.” He whispered; eyes wide in thought. He clutched her closer to him, intertwining a leg between hers. “My father was an admiral.”

“Is he passed?”

“For a couple of years now.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, thinking of her own father and how devastated she would be if he passed away.

“Don’t be.”

It seemed that the conversation about his father always led to silence immediately afterwards. A wall that was hardened and enforced erected around him. She tried asking about his mother, who she knew was alive and still sent gifts, and questioned him about his siblings. He seemed uninterested in anything but stroking her sides and nuzzling her. She imagined that his father was a hard man, but an admirable one. He would have felt some type of admiration if he had set on the same career path as him. She had no idea that his father was an abominable man and he felt like it was too personal and perhaps rather sad to discuss it with her, so he held his mistreatment close to his heart.

There was of course a yearning to be loved and respected by his father, something that drove his career. But it was useless. His father was not even among the living anymore. Lawrence Norrington was a hard man to please. Instead he had sent James off to sea at a young age and never looked back. He had lived as a disappointment since he was rescued by that pirate after nearly drowning. His father was the one that enforced the thought that pirates all deserved the death that came to them as they were always raping, killing, and stealing. They were criminals and as a member of the Royal Navy it was his duty to set it to rights.

He would become an admiral one day. He knew it in his heart and the feeling of unease when his father was mentioned would lessen with time. They had never resolved any of their feelings when he passed. Instead all the resentment and anger James felt towards the Admiral was buried deep in the cervices of his heart. His mother was not understanding, as it was simply the way his father was, but each sibling had a rather turbulent relationship with their father. It was more of a relief when he passed. For all of them.

But he would become an admiral one day, just to show them all what he was capable of, and perhaps that is what made him so thirsty for the death of pirates. If he did his job well, he would be hailed as a hero. The end goal was a knighthood, something his father never obtained. It was as if being an admiral and knighted was a step further. A final “fuck you” to his dead father.

It was hard to leave the bed that morning for James. Elizabeth had coiled herself around him and seemed quite unwilling to let him go after their discussion. She had tried pouting, which nearly always worked on him. She had cajoled and stripped. She touched and teased. It was maddening. But the sea was beckoning him. A comfort to him that no woman could ever achieve.

He had risen and put his uniform in place and ignored her sulking. He swept out of the cabin with nary a word and quickly approached Groves, asking him about their progress. He was so sure that Sparrow was leading them on a merry chase. It was nearly a month and James had hoped to have caught up to them by now. The Dauntless was no match for speed compared to the Black Pearl. The Inceptor would have been, but that ship was at the bottom of the ocean because of two scoundrels had broken the law.

He listened to the reports and turned his gaze to the horizon. There was nothing like the sea. It beckoned him. If he remained on land for a long period of time, his legs itched to sail and voyage. Perhaps it was the adventurous spirit that he could clearly see in Elizabeth and something they shared. His was just so bottled up and choked from the many duties that he had to adhere to and it captured that adventurous soul with a vice-like grip. He admired her free spirit, because it was something he felt inside but could not obtain. He wanted to shuck off his uniform and fuck her.

He wanted to hang Jack Sparrow despite the interference of the Blacksmith. Now, he desperately wanted to hang Mr. Turner and if it wasn’t petty jealousy and anger, James would be lying. James never lied to himself. If there was anything that he respected more, it was an honest demeanor and most importantly a truthfulness to yourself. He was well aware of the feelings he kept stowed away, allowed them to fester and even reveled in sometimes. He imagined the Blacksmith’s boots swinging above their heads, the broken neck, and the blue face. He had seen so many hangings, countless ones, and he could easily imagine it. His hatred towards Sparrow was a little less but no less dangerous. If anything, it was because he was a pirate that it was more dangerous. But, Mr. Turner had broken their trust and that was damning in his eyes. Mr. Turner was a pirate by law now and helped escape one of the most notorious outlaws in the seven seas.

It was something that he wished to conceal from Elizabeth. The fact that he enjoyed the death and the swift justice that he dealt. It was something that would not appeal to her and he had no doubt that if they did catch up to the Black Pearl, she would need to be sufficiently dealt with; meaning she would be locked in the Captain’s quarters while his men dumped their bodies into the sea. There would be no waiting in the brig for them. A swift justice was all that he would grant them, especially with Elizabeth onboard. He would not give mercy twice to those soon-to-be captured pirates and he imagined that seeing her childhood friend hang would not merit a loving relationship that he strove for. He was dreading the moment of capture and yet his fingers ached to hold his pistol and aim it at their faces, watch the blood drain from their bodies.

If there was one thing that Elizabeth didn’t know about him, it was that she married a military man. He gazed down at the ocean as it beat against the ship, imagined and dreamed, thirsted for justice. Elizabeth expected this sort of tender kindness from him, appealed to him through feelings and emotions that she invoked. But underneath everything, he was a cold man. He did not deserve her.

“I am sorry I asked about your father.” Elizabeth had quickly come to his side, silent as a mouse as he contemplated.

He sighed, heavily. This was definitely not the conversation that he wished to have. “There is nothing to apologize for. I imagine you are curious because of your own relationship to your father.”

“I am curious, but if it’s not something you wish to share I should not press you or try to manipulate you. I apologize for that. You are a better man than to deserve my pettiness.”

“You are petty, but I adore you.” He kissed her head, before adding afterwards. “I strive to be the best man possible, but nothing seems to be enough. I have always fallen short.”

“I would say you are a rather tall man,” Gillette suddenly spoke, an arm curving comfortably around her waist and clamping James on the arm. His grin was half-hearted. “You both are far too somber for being betrothed and stuck on the same ship with each other. Not to mention sleeping in the same quarters.” His dark eyes scanned James, almost questioning and nearly doubtful. Why haven't they buggered yet? “I am rather proud of myself for convincing you that you were not needed on watch.”

“Yes,” James smiled slightly, a shift in his shoulders that he was relaxed and still in command. “I am enjoying my time with Elizabeth.” He murmured, sending an admiring side glance to her. He loved her.

Gillette cocked his head to the side, inspecting his friend silently. “You are in a mood today, Commodore.” He said unabashedly. Gillette released Elizabeth’s waist, moving past her and leaning against James.

Elizabeth huffed in amusement, mouth parting in amazement at his brazenness. “And you are rather observant.”

“You must understand, Elizabeth. I have been intimately acquainted with this gentlemen for a good eight years and when he gazes into the sea like a lover parted, there is some concern.” Gillette remained glued to his side, even when Elizabeth tried shifting between the two of them. They simply tucked her into their sides, as she was easily the height perfectly situated to rest against their shoulders. Gillette leaned heavily onto James, an arm wrapping behind herself and clasping onto his commander. There was an understanding between the two of them that was rare. A touching sentiment and a feeling of jealousy erupted in her heart. Perhaps it was her wish for friendship, but the feelings expressed between the two of them hinted at an abiding intimacy and a comradery that she could scarcely conceive.

“Why are the two of you so secretive.”

“It is not secrecy, Elizabeth.” James huffed, almost as if he was laughing at her. “It is exactly what Lieutenant Gillette stated. We have known each other for too long that we can hardly keep from knowing intimate details about each other.”

“I do not understand.” She did not. She tried to imagine herself having such a friendship and the only face she could picture was Will and she thought to herself that no matter how much time spent with James, she could scarcely compete in the confidence that these two shared. If she only knew that Gillette felt the slightest hint of anger towards her for her treatment of their crew aboard the Dauntless during her kidnapping, she would have been horrible embarrassed. There was the lack of warning of immortality, the conniving, and the deceit. The worst part was that the proposal was not even sincere. This was something damning in Gillette’s eyes. James deserved someone unequivocally enthralled with him. He deserved the very best. Elizabeth was anything but. She was beautiful and there was no doubt about that, but Gillette thought that James would hardly be tricked into a marriage for the sake of a pretty face.

“I am sure that we will have the same sort of intimacy once we are married, Elizabeth. There are some things that Gillette will never know about us. Just like you will never know the hardships we have endured or the mindset we share.” A hand snuck its way around her and rested against his friend’s back and Gillette quickly copied his movement. She was stuck in a three-way side hug.

“I want to understand.” Elizabeth muttered, crossing her arms in front of her. She resisted the urge to pout and instead tried to imagine herself with such an abiding friendship that they nearly shared two minds. She missed Will. She missed their friendship that had been damned from the very beginning. But she wanted the intimacy between James and her to flourish before they wed. She wanted companionship and a lover. James could be that to her.

“I am sure many of the other officers’ wives will include you once we are wed. You will develop friendships between these women that are forged from understanding what it is like being married to a military man. That is something that I can never relate to you. I risk my life for the good of the country. You risk losing a husband. A protector.”

“The officers’ wives will treat you as one of their own once the happy day concludes.” Gillette added. “They will be far more accepting of your quirks than high society in Port Royal. Many of them have spirit and the love for the sea that their partners have.”

“I love the sea,” she admitted.

The men looked at each other from above her head and smiled. It could hardly compare to the depth that they understood the sea. Its damning waves and the iciness that it could envelope them, drown them.

She ignored them. They continued joined, grasping at each other in this odd hug and gazing at the horizon. She rather liked Gillette, in a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blow job warning  
> The idea of non-consensual sex by alochol

Chapter 10

There was tension between the two of them. It was like a bow pulled tight, letting arrows fly and strike their target with a fury.

She hated the feeling, as if something was crawling underneath her skin. He knew he resented her somewhat for bargaining for Will’s life and later pretending to faint at the hanging. She did not stand between them or justice, but they escaped all the same. This was something about honor and dignity, about his hate for piracy, and nothing at all to do with the hand grasping his heart. Or jealousy. It was about justice.

Will said he loved me…and that was precious to someone like her who had so few people who truly loved her. Her mother was long gone and her father loved her with a depth that she could not even conceive, but somehow Will loved her. Told her before both him and Jack jumped into the ocean towards the Black Pearl.

She suspected that James loved her too. In a way. But he was not the sort to tell her. Instead she was a fine woman. She doubted that she was truly just an achievement to him, as he had shown himself to truly care for her.

Sometimes she thought that the love he held for her was almost too grand in his mind. She would be a perfect doll to be dressed or undressed, sipping tea and eating crumpets. That wasn’t the life she wanted. She wanted to go sailing. Elizabeth dreamed of the smell of the sea and the wind hitting the sails just right that the boat floated in the ocean. Sure, he would allow her to sail on the less dangerous missions and if she wasn’t here today, it would have been months until she saw her betrothed. That thought was hardly pleasant. Even though she had known James for the better part of eight years, there were so many layers and personas underneath it all that she felt like she was just getting to know him as she ought.

That was special too.

Digging her fingers into his uniform, pulling it away to feel the taut muscles and the chest hair that spoke of being a man and not a boy. She wondered sometimes if Will had chest hair yet and doubted it. Men did not become hairier until later in life and James was just now hitting twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight. He was tall, in a very pleasing manner and she loved that she had to reach for him to kiss him standing up. She enjoyed the fact that their legs were nearly the same length and his torso was long. She loved the broadness of his shoulders and the slight smile when he touched her in such a pleasant way.

It was sinful.

She knew that and found herself caring less and less when he could coax all these emotions and sensations from her. She was a violin and his fingers like a bow, playing her with gentle and sure fingers.

There were embarrassing pants coming from her mouth when he reached inside of her, curling delicious fingers into her heat of her fanny. The smile that curved next to her mouth, satisfied and smug. The heat of his kisses and the press of his cock against her thigh. Sometimes she reached for it and he sighed in such a way that bespoke his longing and the depth of his self-control. She was willing to be shagged. It was him who was the stubborn one and yet, she was persistent. She wondered what it would take for him to finally cave in.

In these moments of bliss, she never didn’t offer. She always spread her legs around his waist and positioned themselves together so she could press herself against him in such a toe-curling way. He would groan and fuss. Tugging her away with sure hands but as the days swept by them, each time they twisted into each other, it was easier and easier to allow her fingers to linger. Her kisses to deepen. There was more meaning between the two of them. She knew the weight of him in her hand, knew the soft curls above his genitalia that she was so curious about. There was always the hand that brushed her away that was less sure as time went on and allowed her hand to drift deeper or rougher.

Those moments of earth-shattering orgasms as he pulled her strings tight and crying out his name. His palm covering her mouth to hush her and the amusement that shone his eyes that she could be so obvious. It was another two weeks of this and nearly a month and a half into their voyage that he allowed her to take him in her mouth.

As long as there was no penetrative sex, he seemed content.

She was sure that eventually she could convince him that it would do them no harm. Plenty of women she knew anticipated their wedding vows. A child being born seven or eight months after the wedding. Far too soon.

The enjoyment of having his hand on the back of her neck, twisting her hair nearly painfully but never pressuring her to deepen the suction around his cock. She licked, rolled her tongue against the head of it, and stroked it with tentative, unsure hands. She hallowed out her cheeks as much as she could, feeling the saliva rolling down the sides of her lips, the gagging and stubbornness to make him enjoy it. She would lick his balls, try everything she learned from romance novels and from the soft noises that escaped him, he seemed to like when she tried different movements. Rolling her tongue at the tip of him, pushing him into her mouth, sucking or licking. It was too much. She was a novice at it. But she took special pride at the soft noise he made each time she explored him.

It took almost nothing at all for he to push her away. Only for a whitish clear liquid to erupt from the slit on the tip of his tool. She watched, eyes wide, mouth sore from stretching around him, and felt pleased that she had finally gotten him to _feel_ something.

He was embarrassed. Embarrassed because they had gone further and he was out of control, spinning and spinning until he was dizzy with pleasure. The self-assured, vice-like grip of his control was slipping from a girl with wide, hazelnut eyes and dressed as a sailor.

“Did you enjoy that?” He said almost wryly, his cock pulsating with pleasure.

“Very much so!” She licked her lips scandalously, watching his emerald eyes darken. He wiped the corners of her mouth with his thumbs, the same thumbs that had circled her own clit until she had squirmed away and twisted in her own bliss. She could smell the hormones in the air. “There’s more stuff…” she gestured to his cock, “Coming out than I expected.”

“Sometimes there’s less.” He shrugged. “You don’t really know until it comes out.”

They moved to the bed easily, his hand quickly grasping hers almost as if he was the one leading him instead of her by his heartstrings. She pulled on them, each glance, smile, curve of her eyebrow, or expression was enough to deepen into this grave of loving her.

“I want you, James.” She whispered and the darkness of the cabin gave them a sense of intimacy that she feared. She said all sort of things to him that would make him squirm uncomfortably.

“I know,” he breathed.

Sometimes they would lay next to each other afterwards, watching the other with curious eyes, fluttering hands, and soft gasps of pleasure. They were constantly testing the other, a pushing and pulling that was as old as humankind itself. They were times she thought that she could give herself fully to him, in those moments where their eyes searched for each other in the dark, and his chest expanded with each breath he took. There were things she always hid from others: her cleverness escaped her in temperamental bursts, the softness of her heart for the sea, as well as the coldness that she exhibited. If she was a man, she would not have joined politics like her father, but the Navy.

She wished she was a man.

Sometimes she wondered whether this was a sort of love that she felt for him, or was it purely sex and orgasms? She would push him hard. Harder than sea life and tug on his self-control until he was hers unequivocally. She knew he would give in eventually. He would fuck her. She trembled at the thought and felt her nerves steel themselves. She wanted that piece of fuck-you-all to the socialites of Port Royal that they anticipated their vows. Enjoyed the thought of the scandal that awaited them and the upturned noses that they were so besotted with each other.

She reached out and stroked the clean shaven face. This close to his face, she could see the softness in the usually stern jaw and sudden relaxation of his tight shoulders.

She would make him love her the way she wanted. It would be incandescent. Bright and filled with light. She would horseback ride like a man. Forgo the hat so the sun freckled her skin and sun bleached her hair. She would sometimes wear britches and a shirt. She would sail with him by her side and sip brandy in his cabin. She would act like a man, but a woman in the bed. People would comment about how wild the Commodore’s wife was…and she had no regrets.

“What do you expect from me, James?” Elizabeth whispered in the dark, again and again she asked this question. She thought he had to have some type of expectation of her behavior. She believed he wanted a proper wife. He just wanted one that craved him like he desperately coveted her.

“I don’t expect anything from you. Just yourself, given fully and willingly.”

She was devoted to him. How could he not know that? She drew circles on his chest, watching goosebumps erupt on his skin, and the sight of the pin-prick of his eyes gazing at her.

“Do you want me?” She asked with a pout, imagining the feeling of a cock between her legs and how odd it would feel. How delicious. How wonderful it would feel compared to fingers.

“Of course,” he muttered back and grasped the hand that drew on his skin. Was he ticklish?

She leaned closer, pressing her breasts against the soft skin of his side and placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth that was already edging into a frown. “Then take me. Fuck me.”

This time he sighed softly and held her closer. He never responded anymore.

This was who she was. She was someone who could chip away at the hard exterior that he erected. Carving herself into him, she would be inescapable.

“What could go wrong? We are at sea. Your men think you plow me every day and they are hardly far from the truth.” She nuzzled him. “I won’t make a peep. We can be quiet.”

Each time she insisted, he grew quiet and thoughtful. He would stroke the her back with sure, calloused fingers. He would frown and she wished to soothe the expression from his face.

She was so close to getting her way.

////

“You’ve made me lose a bet.” Gillette drawled and immediately Elizabeth crossed her arms.

“Maybe you should not bet on such things.”

“I thought you’d be more irresistible to the Commodore. He’s been wanting you since you were eighteen.” Gillette moved closer, his shoulder bumping into her as was his way. She blushed at the thought that she had been so oblivious to his courtship. Now it seemed so obvious. He was always so attentive to her, scowled the boys away, and reluctantly relinquished her to other men.

“The Commodore is stubborn.” She muttered, feeling the ache between her legs. “I thought he would give in too.”

“James is hardly the type to give up something he feels strongly about and for whatever reason he feels strongly that you should wait.” Gillette shrugged and Elizabeth wondered at the usage of James’s name coming from his lips. “There are other things you can try, you know.” A smirk crossed his ugly face.

“Like what.” She said, twisting to lean against the hard wood of the ship. An eyebrow curved curiously.

“If there is something all us men know about James, is that he can hardly contain himself with alcohol is concerned.”

“So, you are saying I should get him drunk?”

Gillette shrugged, hands behind his back.

“I hardly think that is fair. I would rather him want me without the influence of,” she wrinkled her nose. “Of drink.”

“It was merely a suggestion in case the lady gets desperate.” He muttered back. James’s eyes upon them, searching and a slight scowl adorning his face at her expression. She was the epitome of fury. Groves stood beside him with a grin.

“I would rather him fuck me willingly.” Elizabeth said with a touch of venom. There was such power in vulgarity. She knew women and men like that, who drank too much, did awful things, and she would not be a regret of James. People of society could be terrible things to human beings and to each other. Their marriage would be better than that. She wanted his trust more than she wanted his cock inside of her.

“He will, darling.” Gillette said. “Sooner or later even the hardest of stones crack.”

James crossed, stepping down from the helm and quickly coming to her side. Gillette merely bowed mockingly and moved past him, whistling a jaunty tune.

“Is he bothering you?” The glower was firmly planted on his face, watching Gillette join Groves as the two bent their heads to each other, talking in whispers.

“He merely suggested that I seduce you with drink.”

A wry smile. “If you are that desperate, I can hardly blame you.”

Elizabeth huffed. “Are you that desperate?”

He frowned at her tone, watching as she turned slightly away from him, her hands still crossed and she had jutted her chin forward. “No, I was only joking. I know you have no taste for that type of behavior. You have made it abundantly clear that you are a woman of clear morals. You’ve always shown a distaste for that type of behavior from our peers. That is why I want to wait. I do not want you to regret me.” He grasped her arms, placing them above his heart. “I want something from you that you are unable to give me.”

“What is that?” she asked curiously. Allowing him to pull her closer and her arms to slip into his coat, feeling the warmth of his body.

“I want your heart without conditions. I do not want any Turner, Sparrow, or pleasure to get in the way of you loving me.”

So he wanted her to love him. Did that mean he loved her the same way she craved to be?

“Do you regret me stowing away?” Elizabeth questioned, trying to ignore her traitorous heart that this was richly deserved considering she still thought of the ‘I love you’ that Will uttered in his last moments. Those may as well be the last words she’d ever hear spoken from him. It was food to a starving woman.

“Sometimes,” he said. A kiss brushed her lips chastely. “But I never regret how far our relationship has come these few months. I don’t want to lose that when we capture the fugitives.”

“If you capture them…”

“Do you doubt my abilities so much?” For a moment he looked hurt and then the stern expression hardened his exterior. “I will capture them and they will hang. The sooner you understand that, the sooner we can move further into our relationship. That won’t happen until we come across them and you’ve come to the crossroads of decisions.” He paused for a moment, stroking her hands still grasped in his with his thumb. “You will have a choice, Elizabeth. I may not be the man you want after I hang your friend.”

“You won’t hang him. Not in front of me.”

“No, I won’t.” He said simply, because Groves and Gillette knew that the moment they spotted the Black Pearl that she would be locked away for her own good.

“Are these two pirates worth all of this effort?” She waved a hand, as if gesturing to the whole of the ship.

He pushed closer, noses touching each other. “It is my duty.”

“What is duty to what is right? These men are good men, James.”

“I am a good man too.”

“You are a good man. A fine man.” She sighed softly, grasping the tip of his hat and tugging it playfully, trying to relieve the tension that built between them. She always did this. It was a lessoned learned from a father born into politics and the social graces bred into her. She was not supposed to be a nuisance to her betrothed. “But I do not believe that they deserve to hang.” She added, just in case.

He nodded, acquiescing. Rules and arguments were not something that he wished to come between them, but he knew that when the time came, they would no longer have this lightness in their relationship. That was why he did not want to have sex with her. Because somehow he thought something would damage their relationship before they married. He did not want resentment or the memory of her grasping his name when he plowed into her. He did not want to stain his memory but keep it intact so that the longing would not overcome him to have one last time with her in case she changed her mind. It wasn’t for her virtue. He was too much of a man, too much of a sinner to truly protect her virtue. These stolen moments were enough to brand itself of what could have been if their engagement fell through.

He was an honorable man. There was no doubt about that. But he was not too honorable or a fool that when presented with a beautiful, engaged woman that he would not be able to resist her if she truly tried. For the moment, she was content with aching with need. He was perfectly content to steal these moments that would not eliminate her maidenhood in case it would be given to another. But it broke his heart to think of her with another man and when she slept curled up next to him like a cat; he thought of watching her turn her back from him and giving him up for piracy, for another man, for freedom from the life she was rooted in. Piece by piece it broke him. The thought that something could wedge itself between their betrothal caused him heartache. No matter how much his cock stiffened and desired to envelope itself into her warm heat, he resisted because she was not truly his. Not truly. Not unconditionally. He was no fool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited Chapter 4 when I realized that I originally had Groves at fort. Wanted to keep it consistent.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this: Vaginal fingering, oral sex

Chapter 11

It was nearly three months into the voyage to capture Jack Sparrow that it started raining. The men cheered. Shucking off their clothes and running their hands down their body to chase the rivets of sweat and salt from their skin. They hurriedly cleaned themselves before fetching the laundry, washing it vigorously and with intent.

When the cheer went up, Elizabeth curiously peeked through the crack of the door leading to the Captain’s quarters. Watching with shocked eyes when they started undressing, scanning the figures for a familiar body. The rain was gentle, merely sprinkling against their skin with a mistiness that was refreshing. The wind was quiet, unlike the howl that foretold doom and destruction.

James stood amongst it all. His back was straight, chest slightly out and barking orders as usual. His feet stood shoulder length apart, a powerful stance. He was powerful. Strong. Capable. Dependable. A leader. Yet passionate.

He was a man.

She stepped through the threshold of their quarters and watched as he discarded his coat and pulled his shirtsleeves off. They basked in the rain, clogging up the scuppers, and they rejoiced. It was a sight to see and something that she had been denied when she was a child on the voyage from England.

James was a man. His thick chest was easy to spot, the curly, dark hair wet with droplets rolling down the sides of his body. She walked closer, caressing the ship and smiling to herself as she gazed at him. She stood a little further away from him, watching him as his lips curved in the endearing smile that had blessed his face so many times in her company. The sun started edging its way through the clouds.

Sun shower.

It continued raining.

She stood at its helm behind him, gazing at the naked bodies of men as they hurried in their tasks while trying their damnedest to clean themselves. Among them were Gillette and Groves, too preoccupied with dealing with their subordinates to pay her any mind. Elizabeth was intrigued, noting the strong bodies of the naval men, scars and muscles and all. They had erected themselves across James’s bodies like a lover’s touch, soft at some and punctured at others. A kiss full of passion and yet sweet as honey. It was a two sided coin of a man. The lover. The leader. The scarred. The beautiful.

James was someone who was many things.

She reached out and spread her hands across the wide span of his shoulder blades. He jumped slightly and turned around. His britches white and clinging in the rain. His emerald eyes wide in surprise and joy. She stared deeply into his eyes, saying not a word. Instead she tugged him forward, leading him with a hand in his and like always he followed her. Breathless and besotted.

When the door closed behind them in the privacy of their chambers, his lips crashed against her. They wrestled for a moment, him vastly experienced while Elizabeth was comfortable with taunting him with the taste of her own mouth. Used to his mouth the same way she was used to the caress of her hair across her shoulders or the back of her hands. Familiar. As soon as she gave in just a little, he plundered forth and explored the cavern of her mouth. A bruising hand pressing against her hip and the other gently cradled her cheek.

Opposites.

Gentle. Strong. Passionate. Sturdy.

He was different than what she thought he’d be like. She always expected this prim and proper man who wore his wig to bed. Not one that unpinned it and threw it off to the side. Not the man that encouraged her to sit upon his desk and wrap her long, long legs around his waist. She wore entirely too many clothes. They were all hands, grasping, tugging, and pulling until she was bare as always.

He was in awe.

Hands exploring the soft mounds of her breasts, the small curve of her stomach and hips. The thin, bony shoulders and the collarbones that tasted delicious, his teeth slightly digging into the bone that protruded against her chest. She gasped, reaching to pull at the tie that held his dark hair back and always covered underneath the wig. When released it fell into waves further than his chin, nearly shoulder-length but not quite. His face was still wet from the rain so tendrils of hair clung to his cheeks and forehead. He had the slightest bit of scruff from the daytime. It grew remarkably fast and he had to shave daily to keep his pristine image.

She was soon bare before him, his insistent hands and her impatience a heady mixture. They both paused when he stroked her sensitive bud, his eyes glancing into hers. They gazed at each other, her breath hitching and the slight curve of power that graced his lips. He loved power. Craved it. Cultivated it. It was power holding such a woman underneath his grasp. One that declined proposals after proposals, who chose him, who was here with him. She chose him. In the end. He thrust two fingers tightly into her, watching as he legs squeezed his arm and she lifted herself off from the desk with a gasp.

There was beauty in the wildness to her. The doe-like eyes wide as if they had seen a hunter, shocked still and blown out, not with fear but with pleasure. Her blond stresses spread across the desk as he lifted the lower part of her body to grind against his, displayed for his expert touch. He was hard. Felt the power.

The rain beat harder outside, darkening the room so that they were mere shadows in the cabin. She had lit a candle earlier and it brought shadows, dancing across their skin and darkening them into figures in the distance as he bent over her.

She laid on her back, throwing a leg over his shoulder and allowing the other to dangle off the edge of the wooden desk. He pleasured her, using nimble fingers to wrought pleased gasps and moans from her lips. He circled her clit, rubbing it with an insistence born from knowledge of her body. They had done this many times now. Familiar with his iron will of not pleasuring himself and her being worshipped like a goddess. She was like clay in a master sculptor’s hands, thriving underneath the warmth of him and the singular attention.

She tugged him forward, placing a hand on the back of his neck to urge him to kiss her.

He smirked, crouching down so that her gleaming pussy was eyelevel to him. He licked his lips in preparation, fingers still deeply rooted inside of her. Their eyes met. Her thighs were shaking. The smirk widened into a genuine smile when his lips closed around her bud, rolling his tongue across it with ease. Suckling it. Teasing it with tongue and fingers.

She cried out, body arched off the desk and reaching out to grasp his head with a vice-like grip. He groaned. Breath coming in puffs as he pulled back, gazing at the beauty of his wife-to-be before he plundered her with his tongue. It was incandescent. A pleasure that felt like a blinding light to her. Impossible to blink away at the sight of him crouching down with his mouth placed at her tender spots. He gave a long lick, keeping his fingers pumping into her at a slow and steady pace.

This was the secret to her satisfaction. Keeping a steady pace until it built up and up, further until she peaked. It was almost unnoticeable except her sobbing gasps and the slight movement of her legs, curving over his hand to still him. He could feel her throb, feel her heartbeat in her most private parts. There was no physical evidence unlike himself. Just the slimy texture and stickiness of her juices that covered his fingers.

“James,” she whispered softly.

His eyes positively gleamed when he sucked his own fingers, rolling his tongue around them to savor the taste of her.

She gasped, eyes still wide from pleasure and hair tussled. She reached for him. He stood up, allowing her fingertips to flutter against his manhood, tentative as he had rarely allowed for mutual satisfaction. She tugged at the strings that covered him and he allowed her to untie them, smiling as she rolled them off of his body. They still clung to him, not only because of the tight fit but because the rain had plastered them to his body.

His manhood had a bit of precum glistening from the slit of the head. She pressed her lips together, watching him as she moved her hand down his shaft to lightly caress his balls. He sighed softly, closing his eyes.

“No, look at me.” Elizabeth pleaded.

Eyes popped open and stared as she grasped his hips in hand, bringing him forward until he was directly in front of her form resting on top of the desk.

“You don’t allow me to touch you very often.” She murmured, stroking the shaft up and down with intent, eyeing it dubiously. She had done it before, but it was rare and a treat for him more than anything else and he had to have been in a particularly good mood to allow her to mutually satisfy him. “I want to please you like you do me.” She licked her tongue from tip to balls, running her hand in its wake. She spat on it. Hearing him sigh, she smirked as she edged her lips with the top of his penis, taking a moment before opening her mouth to curve around its head. She sucked, using her hands to make up for whatever she couldn’t take in her mouth.

He sighed, gentle hands caressing the sides of her cheeks and muttering some encouragement. He had strong hands and they could be surprisingly gentle.

She hallowed her cheeks, deepening and creating a suction. He cursed softly. Elizabeth pumped him, removing her mouth to watch as she pleasured him with her hands before he placed hers on top. They watched together as their hands slid up and down him. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers tenderly.

“Just allow me,” he whispered. James kept a hold of her hands, guiding her up and down until he sighed, groaned nearly and white liquid burst from the slit of his manhood.

They didn’t pant or scratch each other like previously. Instead they were gentle as she laid herself back against the desk, exhausted and satisfied. There was satisfaction in giving him pleasure too. Such a powerful man that could come undone by her tiny fists.

They both were addicted to making the powerful fall to their knees. They would be a compelling couple.

He quickly dressed as always, but he lingered, settling himself on the edge of the seat by the desk. Her head titled and gazed at him, smiling in such a way that he had never seen. He had never seen her gaze at him like she did in the rain. He felt his heart beat hard in his chest. A feeling of hope and elation thrumming in his bloodstream along with the sex that they had just created.

“What did you see when you saw me standing at the helm?” He asked curiously.

She smiled, bringing her knees up to her chest and highlighting the curve of her buttocks in her naked form. “I saw a man,” was the simple statement.

A dark eyebrow curved at this announcement, somehow hoping for more. “I am always a man.”

“I don’t think I had ever seen you like that, James.” She breathed, eyes widening. “I always knew you were in control of these type of situations and you were a good leader.” Elizabeth paused for a moment, hesitating. She had imagined herself standing next to him. Imagined their wedding and how it would be if they were together, because they were together. It was far too late to take back her words. Not with her heart intertwining itself with his. “But it was the first time I could see myself standing next to you.” If there was anything she appreciated honesty and he deserved an honest answer.

“You’ve never looked at me like that.” James said, almost hurt and yet glad at the same time.

“I never thought to,” she replied simply, turning on the desk to face him. “You’ve always been such a distant figure to me, James. A friend of my father’s.” She smiled, almost giddily. “I never thought of the noises you’d make when I sucked your cock.” Elizabeth teased.

He sighed. “It is the only thing I ever thought of since you debuted was how much you meant to me. How beautiful you are, Elizabeth. We belong with each other. We are equally matched: in wit, intelligence, circumstances, we are meant for each other.” He felt so sure of himself, where she was just a bundle of emotions.

She shifted once again, staring at the ceiling with indiscernible eyes. She wasn’t quite sure about the fact they were soulmates. He would trap her in a way. But he would also allow some type of freedom that she would never achieve with a smart match. Elizabeth turned and gazed at him, noting that his eyes had yet to leave her face.

He stood, towering over her and placing a gentle hand over her heart. Immediately her hands reached to cover his. His eyes with glistening. “You are everything to me, Elizabeth. You have me in your hands. I would lose my commission for you, die for you, and breathe for you. I’d give anything to have you fully, unconditionally.” James sighed and grabbed his garb, listening for her steady breathing.

When he moved to leave, he found himself pausing at the door as she called out his name. “Then you shall have it.”

A smile graced his face as he bowed out of the door, leaving her naked on the desk and swelling with emotion. He deserved the very best. A fine man.

///

The rain continued beating down at them but the wind was a soft howl. They had to shout at each other to hear each other. It had continued for hours. Death breathed its fury on them.

“Sir, I spotted something on the horizon.”

James pulled out his eyeglass and spotted his damnation.

Black sails…

Even in the rain it was a beacon of hope for the end of their journey and the thrumming of a fight in his veins. His men felt similarly.

“Should we pursue?” Groves muttered, eyeing the darkening clouds with an ominous look.

“Yes, turn this ship towards them. It will take time to catch them.” James ordered, placing his eyeglass to gaze at the ship. Hope and fear gripped his heart. Jack Sparrow was doomed. They were on the chase and he wondered if the captain of the Black Pearl was even aware of the danger that it had trailing after them.

“Should we lock the girl in?” Gillette asked, placing his own eyeglass to catch a glimpse of the distant ship. Even with the rain it was hard to spot, but it was no doubt that it was the ship that they had followed for three months.

It was still raining.

It could take a few days to catch up to them and if this storm continued, a dangerous fight.

“The safety to Miss Swann is paramount to any other mission.” The Commodore stated, placing a hand on the hilt of his sword, a reflex. “I don’t think we need to make her aware that we are giving chase until we are closer to each other. It could be three days at most that we catch up to them and I can hardly imagine she would be pleased to be locked away for such a duration.” Yet, he felt the squeeze of his heart. He felt like in the three months that they had made progress and doubted that she would need to be locked away unless there was a battle. But Sparrow and Turner would hardly be likely to harm her. He could use that. If things don’t go his way.

He chased the thought away because things always went his way. He had captured many pirates in the heart of a storm and never failed to come on top. He had sailed the seven seas hailed as a hero for the “scourge of piracy” and only few had failed to escape his grasp. Jack Sparrow would not be another one.

It was a patient task as they inched closer and closer, a day passed. Two days. Then three.

The rain kept falling, harder and faster as each hour passed until he could scarcely see his own men on deck.

This was the moment that James himself locked Elizabeth into the cabin, not saying a word but hoping that she would forgive him. She would. She would understand. Eventually. A battle was no place for a woman. She was locked away. Safe. Protected.

Three days passed until finally the howl of wind was too loud to ignore.

It beat itself against his sails, washed wave after wave across the deck of his ship. Bringing officers into its cold depths. It rose with a fury and the Black Pearl was within eyesight. It was sailing straight into the storm. The bastard.

_Make sure she’s safe…_ he prayed.

He was thankful that Elizabeth’s presence was scarce as he ordered his men about. He barely had time visiting her. Only eating in her presence and her presence alone, talking about inconsequential items about the wedding and keeping the tension on ship under wraps. He wanted to protect her desperately, but the howling that grew louder and louder as they followed the black sails roared in his ears until it turned into a hiss.

A hurricane.

Fear gripped his heart.

He watched as good and honorable men were washed away, thrown overboard by waves that grew taller and taller. Rain beat heavily against them, no longer a gentle caress or a cause to cheer.

James stood at the helm, feet apart and shoulders pack. Pacing and barking orders, watching his lieutenants trying to control the fearful men back into their places. It would be teamwork that would cause them to make it out of the hurricane and capture Sparrow.

It made him furious to think that a hurricane would come and rescue the damned captain. The blacksmith apprentice that claimed to love Elizabeth was probably cheering amongst the hurricane.

Who was fool enough to sail directly into a hurricane? Jack Sparrow, that was who.

Who was the damned fool to follow him? The answer was obvious.

“James, you must think of other factors!” Gillette shouted, grasping the lapels of his coat. “Your madness about capturing pirates is clouding your judgment!”

Groves reached next to them, stumbling as another wave hit them. James reached for him instinctively. He could hear the faint banging of Elizabeth, demanding to be unlocked. Crying. “We need to turn away from the storm, James.” Groves stated, panting heavily as he had run from one end of the ship to the other.

A wave hit them, causing the three of them to stumble, cursing and more men to go sailing over the borders of the ship. Screams.

People were screaming.

It was a nightmare.

The wind screamed along with the men. Damning them.

It coiled itself around them. A flash of lightening stroke and the loud clap of thunder roared in his ears. He stared at the men. He had lost count of the men he had lost. Lost count of the bodies that had flown overboard. This was an unmitigated disaster. The ship was wrecked. The sails torn and barely hanging above them.

“If Sparrow can do it, so can we.” The Commodore stated, grasping the helm and trying to steer it in the direction of the ship slowly disappearing in the wind and clouds. Luck was always on his side. He could do this. He could capture Sparrow. His honor demanded it.

Groves and Gillette looked at each other. “If you do this, you are damning us all to a watery grave.”

James looked back at them. His emerald eyes wide. “You don't know that,” he whispered.

“Think of Elizabeth!” Gillette shouted in the wind, thinking about the woman banging against the door of the captain’s quarters. Her howling the same pitch of the storm. The same type of fury. The sea was a woman. “We need her.” He shouted in Groves ear as James ignored them both. “She can make him stop.”

“I can pick the lock!” Groves said, his wig long since been blown away. “You stand with James and make sure he doesn’t do anything foolish. If this doesn’t work, we are taking the governor’s daughter and escaping. Let him go down with the ship.”

Groves made easy work with the Captain’s lock and Elizabeth hurled out with a ferocious anger, spitting with energy. She had a bottle of brandy in her hand, a glass bottle. She said not a word as she moved with grace and purpose towards James. Like a cat stalking its prey.

“What have you done!” She shrieked, shoving at him.

He stood as an immovable statue. Jaw flexing.

“What is happening?” She demanded, eyes searching the drawn faces of Gillette and Groves. The stubborn set to James’s shoulders and his commanding presence.

“We are pursuing the Black Pearl through a hurricane.” Gillette started.

“Your betrothed is too stubborn to see this as a lost cause.” Groves added.

“James,” she turned to him, talking in his ear. “You must turn this ship away from the hurricane. It is too much for the ship. We will all be blown away.”

“Listen to your commanding officer,” he stated simply, glancing at his two lieutenants with heat. “We have set a course and we _will_ succeed.”

“James, don’t ignore me.” Elizabeth hissed.

“We are on a course to capture one of the most notorious pirates in the world. This isn’t something that I can easily step away from, Elizabeth. I hardly expect you to understand.” He kept his green eyes forward, the color no longer matching the darkened sea. Instead they were murky with fear.

This was what she hated the most. He treated her like she was a child, something to be protected when she could damn well survive on her own.

A wave crashed against them and Elizabeth stumbled, the decanter of brandy still clutched in her hands.

A thought popped in her head.

It was sinister…

He may never forgive her.

Closing her eyes, she bashed it over James’s head. Instantly, he fell to the floor.

Groves and Gillette gasped in surprise but quickly took the helm from their unconscious commander. “We are escaping this hurricane." Elizabeth looked between the two lieutenants. "He has gone mad.” She stated.

“He will be furious.”

“Yes, he will be. He will be furious with me.” Elizabeth said grimly. “Now, one of you help me to his bed and we can tuck him in until we escape this hell.”

Groves quickly took her side. Gillette gazing at her with wonderment and a touch of awe. He would not be court marshalled and nor would Groves for the action of the Governor’s daughter. But he cannot imagine the anger that James would justifiably feel towards his betrothed. There was a sting of admiration he felt towards her, the jealousy and doubt turning its self to a sort of affection. But Elizabeth was the type to wring loyalty from men with her bare hands. She was the natural type of leader. Except she was a woman.

The hurricane whistled around them as they steered themselves away. It grew dimmer and dimmer as the hours passed. James remained passed out in his bed, sometimes regaining consciousness only to groan and close his eyes in pain. Elizabeth remained next to him, trembling slightly at what the future held.

Two hundred men died that day, but the ship was damaged and in need of repairs. Gillette made the decision to sail towards Tripoli, which was the closest trading port. Not as friendly as necessary. It was not underneath the British rule but instead had Janissary as rulers, which were Turkish in origin. It would be necessary to make the repairs. But it would hardly be the port of celebration that the men needed. But it had its own fair share of piracy and whores. Gambling and debauchery. 

When they safely were sailing away did James gain full consciousness. He had curled himself away from Elizabeth, hugging himself and curling into himself. But he radiated an unearthly anger towards her. He was strangely quiet. The quietness was eerie. She expected shouting, maybe throwing things, but not this odd quietness that bespoke more of his fury towards her. If she knew how it blazed in him, maybe she would have understood better.

“I want to be left alone, Miss Swann.” He said, ignoring the damp cloth that patted at the wound on the back of his head. Her hand stilled at the sound of his voice. He felt like a failure. An embarrassment.

“James, I…”

“You have nothing to say to me, madam.” His voice sounded gravely, a touch of a growl.

“I just want to explain.” Elizabeth insisted, feeling the stinging of tears in her eyes.

“You are dismissed.” He spoke harshly, shoving himself into the corner and out of reach from her hands.

“I am sorry, James.” Elizabeth whispered in the darkened room, settling the cloth next to him on the side table in case he needed it. Before she closed the door, she turned back to him. "I did what I thought was necessary. Just like you locking me in here. We do the things necessary to keep our loved ones safe." She stated before she hurried outside, watching as Groves and Gillette immediately turned their gazes towards her. Their expression said it all.

But they respected her.

She tried not to cry and she hurried down into the belly of the ship to the brig where she could find the privacy she craved. She settled herself in the furthest cell, curled up in a ball, and cried.

She thought of bashing him over the head once again. Maybe it would fix it somehow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tripoli#16th_to_19th_centuries
> 
> This talks about who was ruling Tripoli in the 1700s where Pirates of the Caribbean took place. They were known for their piracy.
> 
> Thanks for reading guys! Hope you enjoyed.


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